Cross Country Quest
by LadyNiko
Summary: Things go drastically wrong when Jessie and Jonny fly home for summer break after their freshman year in college
1. Chapter 1 Up Up in the Air

Time Line: Set Appx 3 years after TRA  
  
"Jonny, aren't you ready yet?" a striking young woman called from the cockpit of the jet. She tossed her loose, flame colored braid over her shoulder to get it out of her way. The young woman wore black jeans and a forest green t-shirt that matched her eyes.  
  
"Almost ready, Jess," the young man named Jonny replied. "I just have this one last load of stuff to stow away."  
  
"Okay," Jess answered. "I'll finish up the pre-flight checklist while you stow your gear."  
  
"I'll help you in a minute," he answered, grabbing another bag and putting it away in a compartment. "I forgot how much junk I had until it came time to move back home at the end of the school year."  
  
Reappearing in the doorway of the cockpit with a clipboard now in hand, the young woman laughed, "Well, you could have chosen to go to a school closer to home..."  
  
"Did you, Jessie?" Jonny asked with a laugh.  
  
"And deal with my dad interrogating every guy who asked me out on a date? No thank you, Jonny Quest!" Jessie laughed.  
  
"The Race Bannon Application to Date My Daughter..." he teased, grabbing a suitcase and putting it in the same compartment as the previous bag.  
  
"Exactly!" Jessie replied, heading for the door of the small jet.  
  
Jonny's laughter followed her as she headed outside the jet to complete the checklist on her clipboard.   
  
This was the first cross-country trip the two had been allowed to take without either taking a commercial jet or being flown in one of the Quest jets. It had taken since the semester break over the holidays to convince not only Dr. Quest, Jonny's dad, but her own father, Race Bannon, to let them make the trip without adult supervision. They were in one of the Quest corporate jets for this trip from California back to the rebuilt Quest compound in Maine. Having qualified for her small jet pilot license last summer, Jessie had been itching to fly without her dad looking over her shoulder every step of the way and meeting up with Jonny in San Francisco when he was done with his finals had been a perfect excuse.   
  
Inside, Jonny hurriedly finished putting away all his stuff in various compartments.   
  
He knew that Race would skin him alive if he shirked on checking the plane out before they took off. Jessie might be the pilot, but that didn't let him off the hook, since he was her co-pilot. He didn't have his full license yet for this size aircraft - he was hoping to have enough airtime logged in by the end of the summer to take the pilot's test. It wasn't the written test he was worried so much about - he'd always had a knack for acing any written exam. It was the practical exam that had him stressing out. He had this irrational fear that no matter how many hours he had under his belt and how well he actually did do on the practical exam, the examiner would find some reason not to pass him. It was irrational and he knew it, but that did little to help him get past the doubt. Finally, he had all his junk put away in the small luggage compartment of the sleek jet and went to go help Jessie.  
  
"Okay, Jess, where are we at here?" he called out as he emerged from the plane.  
  
Jessie looked up from her clipboard and told Jonny where she was at in her check. Together they went over the remaining items on the checklist, giving the jet a visual once over before moving inside to the cockpit to get ready for take-off.  
  
The conversation between the two was limited to the last of the pre-flight items as they moved out of the hangar.   
  
"Flaps?" Jessie called out, looking out her window to make sure the flaps on her side worked while Jonny did the same on his side.  
  
"Check," Jonny verified.   
  
This was how it went for several more minutes until Jessie called the tower to request clearance for take-off.  
  
"Tower, this is Questor-two-one-one requesting clearance," Jessie said, checking to make sure she had her harness securely buckled.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, head over to runway four-west and you are second in-line for take-off," the tower responded.  
  
"Copy that - runway four-west," Jessie repeated back to the tower. She revved the engines and the small jet moved forward.  
  
Next to her in the co-pilot seat, Jonny double checked that he had his harness securely fastened as they headed towards the runway. He put his hands back on the yoke as they pulled into a stop behind the larger jet that was powering up for its take-off.   
  
Moments after the larger jet had taken off and turned north, the tower signaled them they were clear, "Questor-two-one-one, you are cleared for take-off. Be sure to check for weather updates when you get to Boise. The unstable weather pattern over the northern plains is prime thunderstorm development."  
  
"Roger that, tower. Will do. Questor-two-one-one cleared for take-off," Jessie said as she and Jonny did one last check of the flaps before powering up and heading down the runway. Moments later, they were in the air and turning to head east for home.  
  
Once they were in the air and at their cruising altitude, the two felt relaxed enough to start chatting about non-technical things.  
  
"So, how do you think you did on your finals?" Jessie asked, setting the autopilot.  
  
Jonny shrugged, "I probably did all right."  
  
"What? You probably got no lower than a B minus on any of your exams, I bet," Jessie teased.  
  
"I don't know, Jess," Jonny answered. "My foundations of physics prof was a real hard-ass."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah, I had to keep proving myself in his class," Jonny scowled for a moment.  
  
"Ugh," Jessie commiserated. "Let me guess, he had a complex about your dad."  
  
"Got it in one," Jonny said, checking the plane's color radar to make sure their flight path was clear for the moment.  
  
The plane, while not as sophisticated as the personal Quest jets, still had more to it than a standard Lear jet. They had a GPS transponder onboard besides the standard emergency beacon and the plane was equipped with power and modem hookups for the business travelers of Quest Corp. It helped that Quest Corp had its own communications satellite so travelers on the jets could remain in contact with the office if need be and not get eaten alive by phone-air charges.   
  
"How's the weather look so far?" Jessie asked him, checking the instrumentation.  
  
"Looks clear for now," Jonny answered, looking back up at the sky in front of them. It felt good to be going home. He had missed having Bandit at his side this past year, but dogs weren't allowed in the dorms and freshmen had to live in campus housing - no exceptions allowed. Not that Jonny had made much effort to get around that rule. He had wanted to fit in as much as possible and not garner any extra attention. Not everyone knew of the famous Benton Quest and that Jonny was his son. That was how he wanted to play it - close to the bone and letting people get to know him first before he mentioned his famous father.   
  
"How do you think you did, Jess?" Jonny asked.  
  
"Pretty good," Jessie answered with a small smile. "The only class I'm worried about is my English comp."  
  
"But I thought you liked English?" Jonny asked, slightly confused.  
  
"I do, but having to write argumentative essays?" Jessie made a face. "The whole semester, that's all we did - even our term paper had to argue about something."  
  
"Yuck!" Jonny commiserated, making a face as well. "Argumentative essays, the whole semester?"  
  
"Yeah," Jessie nodded. "She had me pulling my hair out some weeks with the way we had to argue. I'll be lucky if I pull a B out of this."  
  
"Ouch," Jonny winced. "I'm glad my English lit prof this semester was a hippy. He had some really neat things to say about living in San Francisco during the 60's."  
  
"You got so lucky there, Jonny Quest," Jessie said in an envious tone.  
  
"Yeah, I did," Jonny smiled and shook his head to get his perpetually shaggy bangs out of his blue eyes. "Hey, I forgot. When's Hadj due back from Germany?"  
  
"I think he gets back either tomorrow or the day after. Lucky dog - he got done with finals early."  
  
Watching from the shadows as the sleek jet taxied out of the hangar and then over to the runway, a dark haired man wearing mechanic overalls wiped his hands on a towel. Once his hands were clean, he headed over to the small office at the back of the hanger and sat down at the one desk. He opened the laptop computer and hooked the laptop up to his cell phone and connected to the Internet. He logged into Yahoo! and went to his mailbox. He fired off an email to another anonymous email account, this one to a yahoo.sg account. He knew the address routed to many other addresses, but he trusted the person behind the address not to screw up on paying him. He typed that the mechanical 'enhancements' had been taken care of and that the plane was currently in the air.   
  
He hit send and almost immediately he had an answer, "Payment transferred to account per agreement. Thank you for your services."  
  
The man logged onto another site, this one to his electronic bank. He entered his secondary password to access his bank balance and verified that the payment from his contact was indeed in the account. He quickly transferred the funds to another account that he would log into later and transfer them yet again. That having been done, he signed off the internet and powered down his computer and carefully packed it away. His cell phone was secured in an exterior pocket. He stripped out of the mechanic's overall, revealing business clothes underneath. With his computer bag on his shoulder, he looked like any other business traveler and headed towards the rental car he had behind the hangar.  
  
The two young people continued to talk about their various studies and their eagerness to get home for the summer.  
  
"Did you find any cool computer games yet?" Jonny asked with a grin, eagerly looking for a match up against her when they got home.  
  
Jessie shook her head. "I've only been home for a day. No real time yet to go looking for games. Hadji might have something cooked up by the time we get back."  
  
"Was he working on something, do you know?" Jonny questioned eagerly.  
  
"I'm pretty sure," Jessie said with a laugh. "He left me an email and then would barely let me in the lighthouse, let alone do anything in Quest World, when I talked to him yesterday to ask about it."  
  
"Okay, that cinches it. He's up to something," Jonny laughed and checked the radar again. "Jess, take a look at the radar. I think we're going to hit bumpy weather sooner than we thought."  
  
Jessie did just that and frowned. It looked like a solid line of storms was building across the whole Midwest. "Well, San Francisco did warn me that this was coming. Time to contact Boise and see what we can do."  
  
"Gotcha," Jonny said, slipping his headphones back on and tuning the radio to the right frequency. "Boise tower, this is Questor-two-one-one, over."  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, this is Boise tower, what can we do for you over?" a female voice came back over the radio.  
  
"Boise tower, we're hoping you could give us a redirect to a smoother flight path, over," Johnny said, looking over the radar screen again.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, bear north to heading two-eight-one and climb to 39,000 feet. That should clear you around the worst of it, over," the female controller answer.  
  
"Copy that, Boise tower. Change heading to two-eight-one north and climbing to 39,000 feet," Jonny repeated back to the traffic controller.   
  
"That is correct, Questor-two-one-one. Boise tower out."  
  
"Thanks, Boise tower. Questor-two-one-one out." Jonny said and closed the radio channel.  
  
Jessie made the adjustments, setting the plane to climb as they banked to their new heading.   
  
Talk was light between the two. They were not looking forward to having a bumpy flight and having to fight the weather. Flying in bad weather was something they were more than used to, but piloting on their own? It had both of them somewhat nervous. Each took a brief turn to use the restroom, figuring they weren't going to have a chance once they hit the storm front.  
  
It didn't take long before they started seeing more than white, wispy cumulus clouds. The clouds took on a gray tinge at first and they began feeling the choppier air.  
  
"This is going to be fun," Jonny muttered, checking his harness once more to make sure it was securely fastened. "We're in for a bumpy ride, Jess."  
  
Jessie frowned, did the same as Jonny and said, "Good thing I don't get airsick."  
  
Soon they could see anvil shaped, deep gray-blue thunderheads with lightning streaking out of them. The turbulence increased, even at 39,000 feet, the air was still choppy. Suddenly they hit an air pocket and dropped 100 feet before Jessie and Jonny could pull back on the stick and pull the nose back up.   
  
"Let's do that again - Not!" Jonny commented with a sigh.  
  
"I agree," Jessie said, checking their instrumentation. The storm system had trekked further north than originally predicted and it had now collided with another unstable air mass from Canada to produce tornado prone super cell storms over the northern plains. "It looks like we got caught between two storm fronts. This is going to be rough."  
  
No sooner had she said it than they hit another air pocket and dropped fifty feet again. The two cursed and struggled to keep the nose up.   
  
"Jonny, get on the radio and see if there's a clear path we can find with the Helena control tower," Jessie said, keeping a tight grip on the yoke.  
  
"Will do," Jonny said, keeping one hand on the yoke as he tried to raise the Helena, Montana tower. "Helena tower, this Questor-two-one-one, do you copy, over?"  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, this is -" the rest was cut off in a burst of static as there was a loud thunderclap that sounded below them.  
  
"Helena tower, this is Questor-two-one-one, do you copy, over?" Jonny tried again.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, this is Helena tower, we copy you over." This time the voice came through, slightly garbled, but much clearer.  
  
"Helena tower, we're getting shoved around up here. Is there any chance you could lead us to a clearer flight path, over?" Jonny asked, keeping an eye on the radar that was splashed with color indicating the strength of the storm system they were caught in.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, copy that. No go on clearer flight path. It's solid storms here. Suggest two-eight-five north. That should lead you away from the heart of it, over."  
  
"Copy that, Helena, new heading of two-eight-five north, over," Jonny repeated back to the tower, making the adjustments as Jessie struggled to keep the plane level.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, this is Helena tower out."  
  
"Questor-two-one-one out."  
  
They hit another air pocket and dropped another fifty feet again and as they worked to pull the plane back up, a warning light went on.  
  
"Jess, I'm getting an overheat warning on engine number two," Jonny said, studying the readouts.  
  
"This is not happening," Jessie complained and fought to keep the plane's nose up.  
  
"What do you want to do? Reduce airspeed?" Jonny asked.  
  
"I don't think that will help. I'd rather land and figure out what the problem is before we loose an engine," Jessie said. "Hopefully, by the time we figure out what's wrong with the engine, the weather will clear."  
  
"Gotcha. You want to try Helena? They are the closest to here," Jonny asked her, watching the storm clouds continue to roil under their flight path.  
  
"Call and see if it's clear," Jessie answered, pulling back on the yoke again.  
  
"Helena tower, this is Questor-two-one-one. We are having mechanical problems, over," Jonny called out.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, this is Helena tower. What's your status, over?" the voice was static-filled, but mostly understandable. Airline communication still transpired on the AM radio band and therefore, more sensitive to electrical disruptions.  
  
"Helena tower, we are reading overheat on engine number 2. Request permission to land to check it out, over," Jonny called.  
  
"Negative, Questor-two-one-one. We are socked in right now - no one's going in or out until the weather clears, over."  
  
"Helena tower, where can divert to, over?" Jonny asked, watching the overheat warning continue to blink on the engine.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, divert northwest to Kali-, o-." there was another lightning burst below them, that cut out the radio in a burst of static.  
  
"Helena tower, this is Questor-two-one-one. Could you repeat that please, over?"  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, divert northwest back to Kalispell, over," the air traffic controller repeated.  
  
"Copy that, we will divert to Kalispell, over," Jonny answered, hoping that they could make it.  
  
"Helena tower, out."  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, out," Jonny said and released a sigh.  
  
"Making course corrections to head to Kalispell," Jessie said, checking the coordinates on the map she pulled up.  
  
"Copy that," Jonny said, both hands on the yoke to help Jessie keep the plane level.  
  
They banked back to the northwest and right then the engine light went from warning of overheat to screaming red alerting them that the engine was now overheating.  
  
"Uh, Jess, we've got an overheat on engine two now," Jonny said as they fought the winds.  
  
"Tell me something I don't know," Jessie answered tersely. "We're going to have to try to make it to Kalispell on one engine. Let them know we're coming in hot."  
  
"Kalispell tower, this is Questor-two-one-one, do you copy, over?" Jonny got on the radio.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, we copy, over."   
  
"Kalispell tower, this is Questor-two-one-one. We are having engine problems here. Number two engine is overheating. We have been told to divert to you by Helena. We are requesting emergency clearance for landing, over," Jonny called out. This was so not how he wanted to start his summer vacation.  
  
"Copy that, Questor-two-one-one. We read you 200 miles out. Is that correct, over?"  
  
"Copy that, Kalispell. We are approximately 200 miles out and coming in with only one engine, over," Jonny answered.   
  
"Questor-two-one-one, come -"static burst, "heading -" another static burst then, "- descent to -" lightning flashed and the static electricity burst drowned out the rest of what the controller was trying to tell them.  
  
"Kalispell tower, could you repeat that? We didn't copy, over," Jonny said, cursing the weather and the airline industry's refusal to move past outdated technology.  
  
"Questor-two-one-one, come about to heading two-four-four west and begin your descent to 20,000 feet. You are cleared for immediate landing. We will have emergency vehicles standing by, over."   
  
"Copy that, Kalispell. Changing heading to two-four-four west and beginning descent to 20,000 feet, over." Jonny repeated back the instructions, making sure he had them right as Jessie began making the changes to their flight path.  
  
"Jonny, cut power to engine two before we lose it completely. I hope it's something that we can easily get fixed when we get on the ground," Jessie said, fighting the weather still to keep the nose up.  
  
"Gotcha, Jess," Jonny said, flipping the switch to kill power to the engine.   
  
"Cutting power to engine two."  
  
There was a jerk as the engine cut out, but there was no time to say anything about it as they fought the weather and lack of an engine. Things went from bad to worse as they were descending through the thick clouds. With a deafening clap of thunder and a bright flash that left them blind and deaf for a moment, then they could hear the sound they didn't want to hear - engine one, their only engine left, stalling out.   
  
"Jonny, begin restart procedures on engine one," Jessie called out.  
  
"I'm on it, Jess. Beginning restart procedures on engine one," Jonny said, doing things by the number as he had been taught by Race. This was not a place for improvisation. He got back on the radio, "Kalispell tower, this is Questor-two-one-one, declaring an emergency. Kalispell tower, this is Questor-two-one-one, declaring an emergency. We have lost both engines now. Repeat. We have lost both engines. Do you copy, over?"  
  
Static burst through their headphones,   
  
Jessie and Jonny barely glanced at each other, a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs.  
  
"No go on engine one," Jonny said, continuing to try and restart the engine.  
  
He tried again to raise the tower at Kalispell, "Kalispell tower, this is Questor-two-one-one. We are declaring an emergency. We have lost both engines now. Do you copy, over?"  
  
Static burst through their headphones again. Jonny cursed the weather and their luck under his breath. He had no idea if their messages were going out or not. He could only hope that their messages were being received.  
  
"Jonny, lower flaps to thirty degrees. We've got to drop more airspeed to keep the nose up," Jessie said, her hands white knuckled on the yoke.  
  
"Right, Jess. Lowering flaps to thirty degrees," Jonny echoed, aware that the flight recorder was recording every move they made and he hoped that it would just show that once they were down on the ground they had done everything right.  
  
There was a jolt as the flaps lowered and slowed them down.  
  
Jessie called out their airspeed and altitude as Jonny continued to call out their location in hopes that Kalispell tower would be able to hear them. They were below the cloud cover now, and visibility was still beyond poor. It was almost down to zero with the heavy rain fall. They hadn't managed to get out of the storm completely and the weather was still wretched even at the edges of it.  
  
"Jonny, flaps to forty-five degrees!"  
  
"I got it. Flaps to forty-five degrees!" Jonny answered, pulling the knob to adjust the flaps to the correct position and immediately put both hands back on the yoke to help Jessie keep the nose up.  
  
"Altitude 10,000 feet and airspeed is 254 knots," Jessie called out after the flaps slowed the plane down more.   
  
Jonny gave up trying to do restart procedures on engine one. It had probably taken a direct strike and therefore, was toast.  
  
They were still going way too fast, but with no reverse thrust to slow them down, they were really up the creek.  
  
"Altitude 9,000 feet..." Jessie called out, clearly looking for someplace they could land and hopefully, walk away from.  
  
Jonny looked around, hoping to find something too as they continued to plummet like a stone through the air.  
  
"Altitude 8,000 feet..."   
  
The mountains were no longer distant peaks, they were jagged, rock edifices that could tear the plane to smithereens if they were to crash into them. The trees were looming larger and larger and Jonny felt his stomach knotting with fear and tension now.  
  
"Altitude 7,000 feet..."  
  
Then, they were out of time and with a tremendous shriek, they were crashing through the trees, sliding on the belly of the plane through the forest. A giant pine in front of the plane splintered as it was struck by lighting and the larger half of it crashed forward towards the still sliding plane. The weight and force of it broke through the windshield on Jonny's side of the plane.  
  
Jonny heard the sound of breaking glass and then blackness swallowed him before he could check out the sound.  
  
The large pine tree landing on them seemed to help slow the plane down tremendously and within another two hundred feet, they had come to a grinding and mangled halt. The right wing was almost completely sheered off the body of the small jet, dumping fuel all over the forest floor. The left wing was a crumpled and twisted mess.   
  
Jessie sat breathing heavily, her head bowed and hands still clenched on the yoke. They were down. They had made it down in one piece.  
  
"Jonny?" she asked, when she had her breath back.  
  
Silence greeted her.  
  
"Jonny?" she asked again and lifted her head up to look. "Jonny!" 


	2. Chapter 2 It was a Dark and Stormy Day?

_"It was a dark and stormy... Day?"_  
  
Jessie turned to see that a tree had come crashing through the windshield and now Jonny seemed to be buried under it. He wasn't moving. She couldn't even see if he was breathing.  
  
"Jonny!" she tried again to get a response from him. Still no answer.   
  
She quickly undid her harness and scrambled out of her seat to see how badly he was hurt, the whole time praying he was still alive and that someone would find them soon. She didn't notice at first the chill temperature of the cabin, how she could see her breath on the air as she looked to see how badly her best friend was hurt.  
  
She had to squeeze underneath the tree branches and reach down between Jonny's legs in order to pull the lever that would move his seat back. With his seat moved back, she had more space to wiggle out from under the tree branches. She moved around to the back of his chair and reached down to the right side for the recline lever and lowered the seat back as far as it would go. Her first impression was that it looked like he had taken a solid hit across his nose and he was going to have two very black and swollen eyes. He had another goose egg forming up in the above his right eyebrow over a profusely bleeding gash.  
  
"Damn head wounds," Jessie muttered. "Why is it that any head wound bleeds like you've cut an artery? Okay, I'll have to clean that up and see if I can stop the bleeding. Sorry, Jonny, I think you're going to end up with a scar from this one."  
  
She looked him over for any other obvious signs of injury and saw none. She stood back up and noticed first, the chill temperatures and then the stench of jet fuel.  
  
"We have got to get away from here, just in case the fuel ignites. But, there's no way that I am going to haul your unconscious butt through the forest in the pouring rain, Jonny Quest!" Jessie complained to the unconscious young man.   
  
She turned and left the cockpit behind for a moment and headed to the lavatory at the back of the plane to get the first aid kit. Another thing the jet had was a first aid kit that one would almost expect a paramedic to carry. It was a standard on _every_ Quest jet and every employee had first aid training. Working for such a high profile company had inherent risks and Dr. Quest liked to try and protect his people.

Grabbing the duffel-bag first aid kit that was velcroed in place under the lavatory sink, Jessie headed back to the cockpit where Jonny was still out cold. Setting the duffel-bag down, she set to work on cleaning his face, hoping he would wake up before she had to break one of the ammonia caplets to bring him round. She figured his nose was broken, but not dislocated as she could tell. She cleaned up the blood that had run down his face from the cut above his eyebrow, before gently squeezing the edges of the slash together and applying a pair of butterfly bandages to keep the edges together as she put a gauze pad over it and secured that in place with sterile tape.  
  
"You don't know just how much I hate the smell of ammonia, Jonny Quest," Jessie said as she broke open the capsule under his nose.  
  
Wheezing, Jonny came to and disoriented, tried to push the capsule away.  
  
"Jonny, wake up," Jessie said, continuing to wave the capsule under his nose.  
  
"Unnnnh," Jonny answered, pushing the capsule away. "I'm awake, maybe."  
  
"Come on, we have to get out of here," Jessie urged him.   
  
Jonny groaned, "What hit me?"  
  
"A tree. How's your vision?"  
  
Jonny opened his eyes and seemed to have a hard time focusing on her, "Blurry."  
  
"Well, you'll have to just follow me then. We need to get moving. The fuel tanks are ruptured," Jessie explained the urgency behind the need to get moving.  
  
"Shit," Jonny said succinctly.  
  
"In a word, yes," Jessie replied. "Let's see if we can get you to your feet."   
  
Jonny's hands fumbled on the harness buckle, seeming to lack his usual coordination. All signs of a concussion.   
  
She undid his harness and helped him sit up, keeping an arm braced around his shoulders as he seemed to wobble and likely to topple over.  
  
"Is it me, or is it getting colder," Jonny asked, wavering on his feet, even with Jess' support.  
  
"We're over a mile up in elevation and it's still pouring rain," Jessie answered, getting him to take unsteady steps with her towards the cabin of the plane. Her mind was planning out their next moves. She figured it would be at least until sometime the next day before the search crews were even out looking for them, that was if the weather cleared up. _And that,_ she thought taking a moment to look outside at the raging storm, _was a big if._  
  
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jonny's head drooping on his chest. No that wouldn't do at all, basic rules of concussion stated to keep the person awake and she was not going to use another ammonia capsule on him.  
  
"Jonny! Stay awake!" Jessie commanded. "Repeat after me, 'The first rule of a concussion is to keep the patient awake.'"  
  
Jonny repeated it, his voice slightly slurred. Knowing Jessie wouldn't let him fall back asleep, he recited the first aid rules while she made her mental list of things they would need.  
  
So far, her list had blankets and pillows, dry clothing, the first aid kit, food and water. Well, scratch the food part, she thought. They hadn't exactly packed for an extended stay in the wilderness. Luckily the fridge was fully stocked with all sorts of beverages that Jessie could stuff in one of their backpacks. She grabbed her backpack from one of the forward overhead bins and took it to the fridge to fill it up with the beverages in it.   
  
"Jonny - where'd you stuff your backpack at?" Jessie called to him over her shoulder.  
  
Jonny blearily tried to focus in on her, "I put it away..."  
  
"Yeah, but where?"  
  
"Uhm..." Jonny tried to answer her, but clearly couldn't get his thoughts together. He made a vague waving motion with his hand.  
  
Jessie set her backpack down on the floor next to the first aid kit and headed to the back of the plane to the hatch for the luggage compartment. The more she could do inside the plane the better. She pulled the carpeting back and pulled up on the ring handle to open the small hold. There right in sight was his backpack. She grabbed it and grunted at the weight.  
  
"What do you have in here, Jonny? A ton of bricks?" Jessie grumbled. She emptied out the primary pocket that was stuffed full of various oversized textbooks. She figured the blank notebook pages could be good for kindling and tore them out of the notebooks. Setting the text books and backpack aside, Jessie turned back to Jonny, "Jonny, which bag do you have your clean clothes in?"  
  
"Myblackbag," Jonny mumbled.  
  
"Jonny, don't you dare fall asleep on me here!" Jessie yelled at him.  
  
"Sorry, Jess," Jonny said, clearly enunciating his words this time. "Hard."  
  
"Yeah, well, I know it's hard, but where are your clean clothes at?" Jessie repeated her question, kneeling by the hatch.  
  
"My black bag in luggage hold," Jonny answered, his hand fumbling at the lever to release the lock on his seat to make it swivel.  
  
"Okay, that helps me more," Jessie replied, peering into the dark hold. She couldn't immediately see the bag. She grumbled to herself, of course the bag had to be black and of course there had to be no lights in the hold. With a sigh, she got back to her feet to grab a flashlight. They needed to get moving, but she wanted to be damn well prepared before they did. Grabbing the flashlight from the first aid kit, she headed back to the luggage hold and found the bag she was looking for. She grabbed jeans, socks and shirts, stuffing them into Jonny's backpack.   
  
"Where'd you stuff your coats at Jonny?" Jessie asked him. While the San Francisco region didn't get nearly as cold in winter as Maine, but it still got chilly and damp, making a coat necessary.   
  
"Uhmmmm, green backpack front overhead bin," Jonny answered slowly, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.  
  
"Perfect," Jessie said and strode forward to get them. She intended on wearing at least one herself.   
  
She grabbed the backpack in question and from behind it, blankets and pillows all emblazoned with the Quest Corp logo. Jessie shrugged into the jacket, rolling the too long sleeves up until they no longer flopped over her hands. With brisk and efficient movements, she stuffed the pillows and blankets in the backpack before standing back up with the other coat and backpack in hand and heading back to Jonny's side. She stood Jonny up and got the coat on him and slipped the one backpack on him so he wore it on his chest. She put the backpack with the clothes on his back and then turned to put her backpack on.  
  
"Jessie," Jonny said, swaying on his feet, but making a conscious effort to remain alert. "We need to leave a note."  
  
"Huh?" Jessie had been concentrating on getting them loaded and out of there.  
  
"Rules -" Jonny stated, a frown on his face.  
  
"Argh!" Jessie growled, annoyed with herself. "How could I forget? Rule number five - leave word behind so the good guys can find you."  
  
"I - just remembered," Jonny assured her, leaning against the seat to keep from falling over.  
  
"Gimme just a sec to scribble something out for our dads to decipher," Jessie said, bounding back to the pile of notebooks.  
  
The resulting note was a cross of a multitude of languages, alphabets and misinformation, but their fathers would be able to decipher it and figure out their true heading of Kalispell. Ripping off a piece of medical tape, Jessie taped it to one of the seats as another lightning bolt lit the darkening sky.  
  
"You ready?" She asked Jonny who was leaning against the seat with his eyes closed. He was going to have a hard time seeing as it was and now with his eyes swelling up, it was going to be even worse.  
  
"You'll have to lead, you know," Jonny answered, sounding disgusted with being unable to see.  
  
"I know. Keep a hand on my shoulder and be careful where you place your feet. Footing is going to be crappy and slick," Jessie said, putting his hand on her backpack and leading him to the forward hatch. "I hate the idea of having to go out there, but with the fuel tanks ruptured, we can't stay here."  
  
"Right," Jonny said, leaning against the bulkhead while Jessie popped the hatch and shoved the door open with a groan of stressed metal. The frame of the plane definitely was twisted and stressed beyond repair from the crash.   
  
The first gust of the cold wind took Jessie's breath away with a surprised gasp. "Man, that wind is cold!"  
  
"Yeah. Are you sure we can't stay here, Jess?" Jonny asked, putting a hand out for her to put on her backpack and lead him from the plane.  
  
"There's still the risk of an explosion," Jessie said, leading the way out of the plane and out into the weather.  
  
Jonny could feel her step down to the forest floor and a moment later she told him over her shoulder, "It's about a six inch step down, so take it easy."  
  
"Gotcha, Jess," Jonny answered, finding Jessie taking his hand to lead him out of the plane. The cold air helped to clear his head more than the ammonia capsule and Jess' talking to him. The problem with being more alert was that it served to tell him just how much his head hurt now. He found it easier to keep his eyes closed, since he was dizzier with them open and his vision was completely impaired right now. "Jess, do we have an ice pack in that first aid kit?"  
  
"Huh?" Jessie asked, keeping her eyes trained on the forest in front of them.  
  
Visibility was next to nothing between the driving rain and dark storm clouds overhead and as Jessie had predicted the footing was treacherous.   
  
"Do we have an ice pack in the first aid kit?" Jonny repeated his question.  
  
"I think so. Why?"  
  
"When we find a good stopping place, I think I'm going to need it to bring the swelling down on my eyes," Jonny answered. "I'm useless helping you otherwise."  
  
"Remind me when we get to a good stopping place," Jessie answered, dodging to the left to avoid a root cluster sticking up out of the ground. "Step to the left, Jonny. Big root cluster in front of you."  
  
"Right," Jonny answered, moving in the direction Jessie told him to.  
  
That was how it went for the next thirty or so minutes. Jessie plotted a careful course that kept them moving west-northwest to Kalispell, by checking the digital compass in her watch. It was when she was looking at her watch and not at the ground that she took a misstep.  
  
"Okay, we're still heading in the right dir-" Jessie was cut off as she lost her balance and went sliding. She didn't have time to warn Jonny to stay where he was as she went tumbling head over heels down the mud slick and leaf strewn hillside.  
  
"Jessie?" Jonny called out, feeling her backpack suddenly ripped from his grasp and hearing the sounds of someone going crashing down what sounded like a steep hillside. "Jessie! Answer me!"  
  
Jessie came to a sudden stop at the bottom of the hill with a thud against one of the trees. She ended up on her side with her chest wrapped around a large pine tree and wheezing for breath.  
  
"Jessie are you all right? Answer me!" Jonny called out, unable to open his eyes now, they were swollen shut.  
  
Jessie laid there for a few moments, concentrating on just breathing first. She took stock of her body, checking for any injuries. All right, she didn't seem to be desperately hurt, but now she was covered head to toe in mud and leaves and her jeans were soaked through to the skin now. Finally she could breathe and she called out to Jonny, "Jonny! Don't move! There's a steep slope down right in front of you."  
  
"Jessie, are you all right?" Jonny repeated his earlier question.  
  
"Yeah," Jessie wheezed. "I just got the wind knocked out of me."  
  
"Are you sure?" Jonny doubted her answer, but with his eyes swollen shut, he had to listen to her voice to tell him what was wrong.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Jessie said irritated with herself as she got to her feet and winced.   
  
"I'm going to be bruised all over, but I'll live."  
  
"What happened?" Jonny asked, finding a tree to put a hand against as he waited for Jessie.  
  
"I didn't watch my step and went tumbling down the hill," Jessie answered him, in a thoroughly disgusted voice.   
  
Jonny made a move to come down the hill towards her until Jessie sharply ordered, "Just stay right where you are, Jonny Quest!"  
  
"But Jess -" Jonny tried to protest.  
  
"No! You can't see and it's not exactly a smooth path," Jessie was not taking chances.  
  
"But, Jessie -"   
  
"No buts, Jonny! My legs are soaked through and I'm bruised head to toe now. I will come get you," Jessie said, looking down at her legs in disgust. She would definitely have to borrow a pair of Jonny's jeans when they finally found shelter.   
  
With aching slowness, she climbed back up the hill to where Jonny impatiently waited. The temperature had dropped into the 40's and Jessie could see her breath on the air as she puffed her way back to Jonny's side.   
  
"Are you sure you're all right, Jess?" Jonny asked, hearing her huffing in front of him.  
  
"Just winded," Jessie replied, bending down for a moment to keep her sore muscles from tightening up. "Come on, we still need to find a good overhang or something that we can wait out the rest of this storm under."  
  
"Lead on, Jess," Jonny said, putting a hand out and finding her backpack again.  
  
"Right," Jessie exhaled and slowly moved forward, taking more care now to watch her step.  
  
Jessie continued to lead the way, hoping to find a stream that she could clean up by. She didn't know how long it would be until the search crews would be able to find them, but realized that their fathers would be frantic. Of all the times to forget her cell phone at home! At least their watches had tracking beacons that she had activated and Iris, the Quest Compound AI, should be able to track their movements and lead the search crews right to them.   
  
It was early evening in Germany and Hadji was just sitting down in front of his laptop when Iris flashed up on his screen.  
  
"The emergency beacons for Jonny and Jessie have been activated," the AI said, flashing a red icon on the screen.   
  
"Oh, this is not good," Hadji commented with a frown. "Iris, can you give me their location?"  
  
"Working on it," Iris calmly answered.  
  
Hadji's cell phone rang and without looking at the caller id, he knew it was going to be Race. "Hello, Race."  
  
"Hadji, where's Benton?" Race said urgently.  
  
"He is currently at dinner with Doctor Fujimora," Hadji answered.  
  
"Does he have his phone on him?" Race asked.  
  
"I don't know, let me look, Race," Hadji replied, maintaining his calm. He got up from in front of his computer and went to look in the other bedroom of their hotel suite to see if Dr. Quest had taken his phone with him. There, sitting on the dresser was Dr. Quest's phone. Hadji sighed and shook his head, "I'm sorry, Race, but he forgot his phone."  
  
"Fur on a catfish!" Race swore with heat. "Where is he at, Hadji?"  
  
"He is at the Blue Rose Restaurant five blocks from here," Hadji told Race, shaking his head.  
  
"It's Jonny and Jessie, their emergency beacons on their watches both went off," Race said, trying to explain his urgency.  
  
"I know, Race," Hadji answered, moving back to his laptop to see if Iris had located his two friends yet. "I have Iris trying to find them now."  
  
"Have you tried their phones yet?" Race asked next.  
  
"I was just going to try when you called me." Hadji was doing his best to remain calm in what appeared to be a bad situation.  
  
"I'll call - you see if Iris can find their position and I'll call you right back." Race said tersely.  
  
"Yes, Race," Hadji replied, sitting back down in front of his laptop.  
  
"Oh, and Hadji - don't go anywhere yet," Race ordered and abruptly ended the call.  
  
Hadji allowed himself a moment to complain, "I am not the one who goes out and finds trouble. No. That is Jonny and Jessie. Why does he think I am going to go off half-cocked before I know what is going on?"  
  
He sighed, rolled his shoulders and said, "Iris, do you have a location on the Quest jet that Jonny and Jessie were flying today?"  
  
"Negative, Hadji," Iris answered.  
  
Hadji frowned, "Iris, have the emergency beacons on the jet been activated?"  
  
"They are not active," Iris replied almost immediately.  
  
"That does not make sense," Hadji commented more to himself than the AI. "Iris, can you track the jet?"  
  
"Negative, Hadji. The GPS unit appears to be non-functional."  
  
"This is not good. Not good at all," Hadji shook his turbaned head and frowned. He picked up the phone and answered it before it had barely begun to ring again.   
  
"Did you get through to them, Race?"  
  
"No. I hit both their voicemails. What have you found out?"  
  
Hadji told him what he had learned from Iris and questioned, "Do you want me to go get Dr. Quest?"  
  
Race sighed and said, "Yes, I think you'd better, Hadj. This looks to be a bad situation."  
  
"I will have Iris check to see what else she can find while I go get Dr. Quest," Hadji said, standing up to go get his shoes.  
  
"You do that, Hadji. Call me back when you get Benton," Race said and again, abruptly ended the call.  
  
Hadji looked at the phone for a moment before shaking his head. This did not bode well at all. Time to put his computer skills to work. "Iris, see what you can pull up on their flight plan."  
  
"Working," Iris answered. A moment later the flight plan was displayed with a red dot indicating where Jonny and Jessie were in relation to the flight path.   
  
Hadji studied it for a moment, "Why are they are off course like that?"  
  
Iris provided the answer, "There are severe storms over the northern plains and Rockies."  
  
The map of the flight path shrank to one side of the screen and a satellite image showing the storm systems that had combined to just cover the states that the two were flying through on their way home.   
  
"So that explains part of the problems, maybe," Hadji remarked. "Iris, are Jonny and Jessie moving?"  
  
"I calculate their speed to be no more than four miles an hour," Iris said.  
  
"They are on the ground? This is not good. Not good at all." Hadji answered.   
  
There was more work to be done, but he had better go get Dr. Quest first. He would go get Benton himself in order to give himself a few minutes to think about what he wanted Iris to search for next. He picked up the hotel phone and dialed the concierge desk.   
  
"Concierge Desk," was the precisely spoken answer with an Oxford tint to it.  
  
"This is Hadji Singh, I need a taxi right away," Hadji said, knowing that by calling ahead, he would have a taxi as soon as he hit the lobby.  
  
"Of course, Herr Singh. One will be waiting for you as soon as you arrive downstairs."  
  
"Thank you," Hadji said and didn't wait for the concierge to reply before hanging up the phone.  
  
Grabbing his keycard for their suite, Hadji hurried from the room and impatiently waited for an elevator to arrive to take him down to the lobby. He hit the lobby at a fast walk with barely a nod to the concierge desk and headed out the door where the doorman was holding a taxi for him.  
  
"Wo gehen Sie, mein herr?" the taxi driver asked. (Where to?)  
  
"Das Blaue Rose Restaurant, bitte," Hadji responded. (The Blue Rose Restaurant, please.)  
  
"Blaue Rose?" the taxi driver echoed. (Blue Rose?)  
  
"Ja, bitte," Hadji answered, using his limited German. (Yes, please.)  
  
"Ja, so," the taxi driver said, putting the vehicle in gear and pulling out of the hotel drive.  
  
Race paced the living room at the Maine house. He wanted to get in the air now to go start looking for the kids. Damn it, he knew it was a bad idea for them to fly home by themselves.   
  
The house phone rang and he snatched it up, "Hello?"  
  
"Hello, is Doctor Benton Quest there?" was the response from a deep male voice.  
  
"No, this is Race Bannon, can I help you?" Race asked, dreading what this call was going to be.  
  
"My name is James Whitmore and I'm with the FAA incident team in Helena, Montana. I need to speak with..." Whitmore paused, making Race's heart beat quicker. "Race Bannon?" he repeated. "Are you by any chance related to Miss Jessica Bannon?" The man's words confirmed Race's fears.  
  
"Mr. Whitmore, Dr. Quest is out of the country and my daughter, Jessie, was piloting the jet. Their personal emergency beacons have already gone off. Tell me, what went wrong?" Race said, running a hand worriedly through his hair.  
  
"Mr. Bannon, as near as we can figure, they went down somewhere between Helena and Kalispell," Whitmore answered.  
  
"What happened?" Race bit out.  
  
"They were requesting a clearer flight path out of the storms when they reported engine trouble. They were told to head to Kalispell because Helena is just being hammered with massive thunderstorms. They contacted Kalispell and got clearance to head there, but never made it." Whitmore relayed the sequence of events as he knew them.  
  
Race swore again, "Fur on a catfish!" He paced the living room and exhaled heavily. "Tell me, do you have a fix on the emergency transponders of the plane yet?"  
  
There was a long pause and Race questioned, "Don't tell me they're not transmitting."  
  
"We haven't been able to get a fix on the black box transmitters at this time. We don't know if the electrical storms are interfering with that or not," Whitmore was hesitant in his answer.  
  
"I'm a pilot myself, Whitmore," Race said, dropping down to perch on the edge of the couch. He didn't add what else he was in addition to being a pilot. It was unnecessary right now. "Cut to the chase and tell me what's going on."  
  
"We don't know yet, Mr. Bannon," Whitmore answered. "The weather is still preventing us from getting search crews up and looking for them at this time. It's not expected to let up until well into the night tonight."  
  
"The plane didn't explode," Race questioned, but making it more of a statement. He didn't believe that the plane had exploded in mid-flight. Not if the kids personal emergency beacons were going off.  
  
"No, Mister Bannon. We have no reason to believe the plane exploded in mid-flight. Not if, as you said, the personal emergency beacons for Jonathon and Jessica were going off. We don't know the reason why we can't get a fix on the emergency transponders, but we've got the best techs between here, Kalispell and Seattle working on it," Whitmore assured Race.  
  
"I'll have Hadji run it through Iris to see what he can come up with," Race said.   
  
"Mister Bannon?" Whitmore was confused.  
  
"Doctor Quest's adopted son. Like Jessie and Jonny, he's a whiz at computers. Between him and Iris, the Quest computer system, he can damn near figure out anything," Race briefly explained.  
  
"Ah," Whitmore answered, not sure what to make of Race's answer.   
  
"Look Whitmore, Dr. Quest is out of the country and I can't get a hold of him at the moment. What news do you have for me other than the plane went down with engine problems?"  
  
"We will have search teams up at first light tomorrow looking for the plane and young Mister Quest and your daughter, Jessica. Rest assured, Mister Bannon, we are going to do all we can to find them," Whitmore stated.  
  
"As soon as I can get Benton back here, we'll be heading out there. Between Hadji, Benton and I, we have the best chance of finding those two," Race stated, trying to think of how long it would take for Benton to get back.  
  
"Mr. Bannon, I don't think -" Whitmore began.  
  
"Look, Whitmore, you don't understand. I know how to track those two on the ground and between Benton and Hadji, they'll be able to track their emergency beacons and get a fix on their locations and lead the search crews right to them." Race said firmly.   
  
There was no doubt that he was heading out to Montana to retrieve Jonny and Jessie. Just as he knew that there was no doubt about Hadji and Benton going with them. It would be better to keep everyone together right now, since this would be the perfect time for someone to make an attempt to kidnap and/or murder Dr. Quest while his attention was so focused on Jonny.  
  
That certainly set Whitmore back on his heels. Race could hear him spluttering on his end, unused to someone just coming in and taking charge of his search and rescue operation.  
  
"But you just can't -" Whitmore tried to protest.  
  
"Let me explain something to you, Whitmore, I am Jonny's bodyguard. It is my job to be out there looking for him," Race decided to set Whitmore straight before he got out there.  
  
"Oh, oh..." Whitmore said, beginning to understand that he was outranked and outclassed.   
  
"Look, I've got to get word to Doctor Quest and let him know what's going on so he can get back here. Be prepared for a lot of agents showing up on your doorstep, Whitmore. My boss, Phil Corvin, is going to be very interested in discovering why that plane went down and why the emergency transponders for the black boxes aren't working." Race decided it would be better to let the man know what he was in for now before the horde of agents descended upon him and his team.  
  
There was another moment of stunned silence on Whitmore's end and this time Race could hear the storm raging outside in Montana.  
  
"I'm not saying they're going to take over your investigation nor will I say they aren't going to because I'm not the one on site making the calls," Race told him.   
  
"The only thing I care about is finding Jonny and Jessie."  
  
Whitmore finally said, "I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Bannon, and I thank you for letting me know what's headed my way."  
  
"Keep me posted, Whitmore. Keep me posted. I will be headed your way as soon as I get Benton back here," Race said, ending the call before Whitmore could say anything else. "He probably got his job through political connections," he said to the empty house a moment later.  
  
Race took a deep breath and punched out another number and waited for an answer.   
  
"Phil Corvin's office," a smooth, female voice answered the phone.  
  
"It's Bannon, get me Corvin. It's an emergency." Race was blunt and to the point.  
  
"Just one moment," the female said and put Race on hold and a moment later it was picked up by Phil Corvin.  
  
"Corvin here, what's wrong, Race?"  
  
"Phil, Jonny and Jessie's plane went down somewhere between Kalispell and Helena Montana with engine problems. The plane's black box emergency beacons aren't transmitting, yet the kids' personal ones are going off," Race told his boss.  
  
"Damn," Corvin said exhaling heavily.   
  
"I know," Race answered with a wry twist to his mouth. "I knew I shouldn't have let them talk me into this scheme of theirs. I should have flown out to San Francisco to bring Jonny back myself."  
  
"Who's to say that this wouldn't have happened if it had been you in the plane?" Corvin questioned. "Where are Doctor Quest and Hadji?"  
  
"They're in Germany. I'm sure they'll be flying back first thing," Race answered, still running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Great. Get them back here and then you get out to Montana and lead up the search for the kids. This could be a move against Doctor Quest. Have you had any threats lately?" Phil gave the go ahead to what Race already had planned on doing.  
  
"No, I haven't seen anything. I'm sure Benton would tell me if he had gotten any direct threats lately, as would Jonny."  
  
"Right, well, I'll mobilize the troops and see what we can find out until you get out there."  
  
"Not much to find out right now. Helena is socked in with severe storms right now and Whitmore, the FAA guy there, told me they aren't expected to let up until nightfall," Race all but growled at how everything seemed to be working against him from getting out there and taking the lead on the search for the kids.  
  
"Damn," Phil said in a heartfelt tone. "I'll call the local FBI office and have them get rolling on this. The sooner we can get a hold of the tapes from the air traffic controllers, the sooner we can start to figure out what went wrong and where to look for the kids."  
  
"Right, just keep me in the loop until I can get out there and take the lead on the search for the kids." Race told his boss.  
  
"Don't worry, Race, I know better than not to keep you in the loop," Phil said wryly. "Call Doctor Quest and get him started back to the states now."  
  
"Thanks, Phil. I'll let you know when we take off for Montana," Race said on a sigh.  
  
"Take care and try to take it easy for now, Race," Phil said by way of dismissal.  
  
"You too, Phil, you too," Race sighed and hung up the phone.  
  
He sat down on the couch and exhaled heavily. He didn't think he'd get a good night's rest until he had Jessie and Jonny back safely. He picked up his cell phone and waited for Hadji's call.


	3. Chapter 3 The Smell of BenGay in the AM

The taxi pulled to a stop outside the Blue Rose Restaurant and the driver turned back to Hadji. "Zehn Euros, bitte."   
  
Hadji pulled out the ten Euros and handed it to the man. "Danke, mein herr," he thanked him. Looking over at the restaurant, he reflected that he should be coming right back out with his father, so he bent to the window to ask the driver to wait. "Bitte, konnten Sie auf mich hier warten?"   
  
"Ja, ja," the man nodded and put the car in park. He questioned, "Wie sehen Sie sich sind?"   
  
How long would he be? Hadji looked to the restaurant, "Nicht lang." Not long, he hoped and got out of the car and headed for the restaurant.   
  
The maitre'd looked up as Hadji came in the front doors. "Mag ich helfe Ihnen?"  
  
"Ah-" Hadji's German failed him and he asked in English, "I am looking for Doctor Quest. Please, is he still here? He is with Doctor Fujimora."  
  
"Ah so, yes," the maitre'd said, recognizing the name of Fujimora. "They are still here. You need to see Doctor Quest, yes?"  
  
"Yes, please," Hadji nodded.  
  
The maitre'd snapped his fingers and immediately one of the waiters looked up and headed their way. He was wearing a black dress shirt with black trousers covered by a white apron and white and red cloth napkins folded on his shoulder.  
  
"Hans, you have Doctor Fujimora's table. Take this young man to see Doctor Fujimora and his guest right away," the maitre'd briskly ordered the waiter.  
  
"Yes, Andre," the waiter said with a nod and turned to Hadji, "Follow me, please."  
  
"Sure," Hadji said, relieved that his father was still at the restaurant and he didn't have to worry about tracking him down elsewhere.  
  
The waiter led Hadji back through the restaurant back to a separate dining area that was lined with secluded alcoves. Hans turned at one and motioned Hadji forward.   
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Doctor Quest and Doctor Fujimora," Hadji said with a slight nod to the Japanese scientist.  
  
"Hadji?" Dr. Quest's red eyebrows arched in surprise at seeing his adopted son.  
  
"You forgot your mobile phone back at the hotel and a situation has arisen that needs your attention," Hadji explained briefly.  
  
"What's wrong, Hadji?" Benton questioned, knowing full well Hadji wouldn't come get him unless it was truly urgent.  
  
"I'm afraid it has to do with Jonny and Jessie, Doctor Quest," Hadji answered, solemnly.  
  
"Worse than usual?" Benton asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.  
  
"Quite possibly," Hadji answered. "Race is waiting for us to call him back."  
  
"I'm sorry, Doctor Fujimora, but it seems I must cut our dinner and discussion short this evening," Benton turned back to his companion, his face pale with worry and tension.  
  
"I understand, Benton. Our children are ever a trial to us," the Japanese scientist answered, getting up from the table with Benton.  
  
"I'm afraid so," Benton said with a wry smile, trying to keep from letting Dr. Fujimora see just how tightly he was clenching his jaw.  
  
With a short bow and a handshake, Benton followed Hadji back out to the waiting cab.  
  
"Wo jetzt?" the taxi driver asked as Hadji returned with Benton.   
  
Where to, Benton thought wryly, that was the question of the night. But, they had to go back to the hotel first before heading back to the States, "Zurück zu dem Hotel, bitte," he answered, sitting back in the seat.   
  
"Ja, ja," the cabbie answered and put the car in gear, quickly making a tight u-turn to go back the way he'd come.  
  
En route, Hadji calmly told Benton what the situation was. Benton could see Hadji was worried from his stiff posture. "It seems that the GPS tracking unit for the plane is not working, and Jonny and Jessie's personal emergency transponders have gone off. Iris has located them on the ground in Montana."  
  
"Do we have any official word yet?" Benton asked, his eyes narrowed with tension and worry. He was having more than second thoughts about having let Jessie and Jonny fly home by themselves.  
  
"I don't know. I am sure they are going to try and reach you at home first," Hadji answered.  
  
"And, Race is climbing the walls already, I bet." Benton remarked with a wry twist of his lips.  
  
"You could say that," Hadji agreed neutrally.   
  
"I'll call Marco as soon as we get back to the hotel and have him start prepping the jet to head back to Maine," Benton said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. It was going to be a long night.  
  
Then they were back at the hotel and the cabbie pulled back up in the circular drive of the grand hotel.  
  
"Zwölf Euros, bitte," the cabbie said, hitting the stop button on his meter.   
  
"I got it, Hadji," Benton said, pulling his wallet out. He handed the cabbie fifteen Euros to cover the twelve Euro fee with a tip and thanked him for waiting before heading back into the hotel with Hadji.   
  
Immediately on reaching their suite he headed into his bedroom to grab his mobile phone and call Marco, the Quest Enterprises pilot who had flown them from Maine to Berlin.  
  
"Marco, it's Doctor Quest. I'm sorry to disturb you..." Benton said and paused as the man on the other end said something.  
  
"Yes, well, how soon can you Andrea be ready to fly back to Maine?" he asked next, rubbing a hand worriedly through his hair.   
  
"Already?" the pilot asked, surprised  
  
He nodded and said, "Yes, well, a situation seems to have developed back home that needs me back there."  
  
There was a brief pause as Benton heard Marco conferring with Andrea.  
  
"We can get everything filed and be ready to go in under an hour," Marco answered, giving Benton a time frame.  
  
Benton sighed in relief. A small smile lit up his face momentarily, "Oh, that's great, just great."  
  
"Do you want us to pick you up before we go to the jet, Doctor Quest?" Marco asked.  
  
Benton answered, "No. We still need to check in with Race here. We'll meet you there at the airport in about an hour."  
  
Marco said, "Jonny and Jessie really are just magnets for trouble aren't they, sir?"   
  
Benton gave a short laugh. "Exactly, Marco. I don't know who gives Race more white hair - Jessie or Jonny. They're the reason we're heading back now. They seem to have run into problems coming back from San Francisco."  
  
Surprise was back in Marco's voice "Well, I hope it's not too serious, Dr. Quest."  
  
Benton said, "Thanks, Marco. I appreciate the thought. We'll see you in about an hour." He hit the end button on his phone and sighed heavily. He turned to Hadji who was working away at his laptop with Iris. "What have you got, Hadji?"  
  
"I have located Jonny and Jessie on the ground, Doctor Quest," Hadji said, looking up to his adopted father.  
  
"Call Race and let him know we're back," Benton directed him, looking at the screen, trying to decipher why they were moving on the ground.  
  
Hadji nodded and picked up his cell phone to call Race. "Yes Race, we are back now. Have you heard anything?"  
  
Benton heard Race's sigh as Hadji dropped the phone in the cradle next to his laptop to switch it to speaker phone mode.  
  
"I got a call from a James Whitmore who heads up the FAA Incident Team in Helena, Montana. They have confirmation that the plane went down, but they don't know where," Race began to explain what little he had gotten out of Whitmore.  
  
Hadji continued to work with Iris to try and figure out why the plane's GPS transponder wasn't working. From the frown on his face, Benton could see he wasn't having much success either.   
  
Race concluded by saying, "I've talked to Corvin and he's sending out agents from the FBI's field office there in Helena, who will start coordinating the search and rescue efforts until we can get out there."  
  
"I've already got Marco and Andrea warming the plane up," Benton said, looking over to Hadji. "Hadji, have you and Iris had any luck trying to locate the plane yet?"  
  
"I am sorry, Doctor Quest," Hadji answered, shaking his head. "Iris has not been able to locate the plane's GPS transponder. It could have been disabled or damaged in the landing."  
  
"I thought you designed it to be pretty indestructible, Benton," Race commented, puzzlement in his tone.  
  
"I did, but if the plane was too heavily damaged, the GPS unit may not have survived," Benton answered, he was also puzzled. "I designed it to be on par with the plane black box in term of indestructibility."  
  
"Benton, I don't like this," Race said.  
  
"I don't either, Race. This doesn't sound right at all," Benton agreed, stroking his beard thoughtfully.  
  
"Pack up and get back here as soon as you can, Benton." Race ordered. "There's just something fishy about all this, and I can't put my finger on it."  
  
"I must agree. This doesn't make much sense, Race," Hadji said, powering down his laptop.   
  
"Hadji, do you have a location on Jessie and Jonny?" Race asked.  
  
"Yes, Race," Hadji answered promptly, closing his laptop. "I show that they are on the ground moving."  
  
Race and Benton both sighed in relief. If they were moving, they couldn't be that badly injured.  
  
"All right, that's all I need to know for now. I can have Iris continue to track them from here. Get packed and get back here, you two and let me know when you're in the air."  
  
"We'll be there in about ten hours, Race," Benton said, getting up to put his own laptop away.  
  
"Take care, Benton, Hadji," Race said in closing.  
  
"We will," Hadji assured him and hit the end button on his phone.  
  
With hurried care, the two packed their luggage with Benton pausing only to call the front desk to request that his bill be prepared immediately and delivered to his suite. Just as he was zipping shut his suitcase, there was a knock at the door.  
  
"I've got it, Hadji," Benton called out to his adopted son and headed for the door. He opened it to find a bellhop there with the bill and a luggage cart. He stepped aside to let the bellhop in and before he could shut the door, Andrea, their co-pilot, was there.  
  
Andrea Agrotera was six foot, blonde and looked like she should be on a Paris fashion runway instead of working as a bodyguard and pilot. She used her looks to her advantage and let people live under the assumption that she was harmless, until they threatened her or her charges.  
  
"Race called and said for me to stick by your side until we get to the airport," she said be way of greeting.  
  
Benton smiled briefly as he motioned her in the room, "I should have known he'd do something like that. We're just about done here."  
  
"Great," Andrea said, stepping back out of the way.   
  
She headed over to see how Hadji was doing while Benton checked over the hotel bill and signed off on it. Moments later, all the luggage was loaded on the cart and with Andrea in the lead, they headed for the car that Andrea had waiting for them and then the airport.   
  
Marco greeted them when they arrived at the hangar and said, "The tower has the flight plan and we're basically cleared for take off at any time."  
  
Benton sighed and nodded. "Let's get this show on the road."  
  
"Right," was the general consensus from Hadji and Andrea and within five minutes, the hatch was closed, Andrea in her seat in the cockpit with Benton and Hadji in their seats in the luxurious cabin.  
  
In the air, Benton called Race to let him know they were en route. It was going to be a long ten hours to get back to Maine.  
  
Just when Jonny thought he could go no further, he head the sound of running water.   
  
"Uh, Jess..."  
  
"I see it, Jonny and it's what I was looking for," was the calm, but tired answer from Jessie.  
  
"Clue me in here, Jess, would ya'?" Jonny asked, unable to figure out what Jessie's plan was.  
  
"Fresh water, Jonny. There's an overhang about half mile ahead that should provide some relief from the rain," Jessie explained, her shoulders heaving with a sigh of relief at the site of what looked to be good shelter spot.  
  
It took them about ten more minutes to reach the spot that Jessie had spied. She helped Jonny sit down and took stock of their situation. They were out of the pouring rain and had fresh water just fifty feet away.   
  
"How are you doing, Jonny?" she asked as she helped him sit down against the rock face.  
  
"I can't see and I feel like I've got someone taking a jackhammer to my head, but I'll live," Jonny answered, reaching a hand up to touch his face. Yup, he thought, his eyes were truly swollen now. He was so screwed if anyone wanted to attack them. "How are you, Jess?"  
  
"I'll live," Jessie answered on a sigh. From the sounds of her voice, Jonny could tell she was still standing.  
  
"Are you going to sit down, Jess?" Jonny asked her, carefully tilting his head back to rest it against the rock face at his back.  
  
"Gimme a sec to think about it..." she said tiredly. "I'm trying to figure out if I actually sit down, I'll be able to stand back up again later on."  
  
"Jess?" Jonny questioned, worried by her tone.  
  
"I'll live. I'm just gonna be incredibly stiff," Jessie replied, setting down the first aid kit and then slipping off the two backpacks she had carried. "But, I'll get that ice pack for your eyes out before I can't bend over to get it."   
  
"Right," Jonny said after a moment's pause. "I forgot I asked for it."  
  
"Concussion. Your brain got a bit scrambled," Jessie commented, gathering up her muddy, wet jeans to be able to kneel down. "I hope we have Ben-gay or something like it for sore muscles in here."  
  
"It'd make sense..." Jonny commented. Weariness combined with the concussion were making to keep his thoughts focused.   
  
"I know if it makes sense, then it doesn't happen," Jessie said absently as she dug in the first aid kit for the chemically activated cold pack. She answered the comment, "But, this is your dad, we're talking about here. He tends to be a very rational person."  
  
Jonny didn't answer and Jessie looked up, having found the cold pack to see that he had fallen asleep. His head was tilted back against the rock wall at an odd angle that guaranteed he would have a crick in his neck if she left him that way. With a cross between a sigh and a moan at the stiffening muscles, Jessie stood back up with the cold pack in hand and walked the few steps to his side.  
  
"Jonny," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Jonny tried to open his eyes and was disoriented when he found he couldn't open them. "Huh, Jessie?"  
  
"You'll get a crick in your neck trying to sleep like that. Come on, let's get you laying down and get the cold pack on your face to bring the swelling down around your eyes." Jessie said, helping him lean forward enough to pull the one backpack off his back.  
  
"Sorry, Jess," Jonny mumbled, unable to coordinate his limbs, so he just let Jessie move him as she needed to.  
  
"It's okay, Jonny," Jessie assured him, taking off the backpack with the blankets and pillows she had put on him over his chest. "It's okay to rest now. I'll wake you up on a couple of hours to do the concussion check."  
  
Jonny groaned at the reminder, knowing that it was necessary didn't make it any easier for him. "Can we skip it and say we did?"  
  
"And have not only my dad, but your dad come down on us like a ton of bricks when they get to us? I think not," Jessie snorted, taking one of the blankets out of the backpack and shaking it out to provide a dry base to lay on. Her next step was to get Jonny out of his damp jacket and wrapping him in another blanket, then shaking the moisture out of his jacket and wrapping that jacket back around him. She explained her actions, "I think we're going to get below freezing tonight. We need all the layers we can get to keep from getting too cold."  
  
"You need to change out of your wet jeans, Jess," Jonny protested.  
  
"I will in a minute, but it means me covering myself in some sort of liniment before I put on a dry pair of jeans. As soon as I get you settled, I'll take care of myself. Don't worry, Jonny. I know what I need to do in order to be able to move tomorrow."  
  
"Just...making...sure," Jonny said around a yawn. "Rules..."  
  
"I know, I know," Jessie sighed, pulling out one of the survival blankets and wrapping that around him too. That would also help to keep in his body heat. She helped him lay down with his head on one of the pillows she had taken out of the one backpack. She activated the cold pack and gently placed it over his swollen eyes. "There, now lay back and let the cold pack work on the swelling. I'm going to rub down with the liniment in the med kit and then change into clean jeans."  
  
"Of all the times..." Jonny commented with a ghost of his usual smile.  
  
"Dream on, Jonny Quest," Jessie said with a small laugh. Things weren't too bad if Jonny could still make bad jokes. At least their fathers should be able to track them via their watches and the note she had left in the plane for them.   
  
Jessie turned back to the first aid kit and with a groan of relief, located the muscle cream in one of the side pockets in the kit. She slipped out of her jacket to rub her arms and shoulders down first, put the jacket back on before slowly peeling off the wet, mud-caked jeans. Good thing she had soap and running water and could get the worst of the mud out of them, she thought vaguely to herself.   
  
"That stuff stinks," Jonny commented from his prone position.  
  
"Yeah, but it should keep the bugs away," Jessie shot back, continuing to rub her legs down with the ointment.   
  
"Jess, any bugs out in this weather aren't gonna be afraid of the smell of Ben-Gay," Jonny commented, his voice slurring with the effects of the concussion.  
  
Jessie didn't answer, but had to give him points for that. She could see bruises already starting to appear on her arms and legs and knew that without the liniment she'd be too sore to move the next day, let alone move with any speed - especially after spending the night outside in the cold temperatures. Her legs covered with a generous amount of the cream, she dug in Jonny's backpack and grabbed on of his pairs of jeans out. Sliding them on, she turned and got more blankets out of the other backpack Jonny had been carrying and wrapped herself up in them, knowing that it was too wet to try and find any dry wood that day. They would just have to make do with the snacks she had put in her backpack with the sodas and bottled water. Tomorrow she'd see about getting firewood if they were going to be out there for further than the next day. She certainly hoped not. With a groan, she lowered herself down next to Jonny and wrapped the blankets around her.  
  
She thought Jonny was asleep but he surprised her with his quiet question, "How long do you think we'll be out here, Jess?"  
  
"If the weather clears tonight, two days tops. Hadji is probably in front of his laptop now and knows exactly where we're at," Jessie said, feeling the warmth of the muscle rub seeping into her bruised body.  
  
Jonny made an assenting noise and said, "Yeah, Hadj would be the one to track us..."  
  
"Get some rest, Jonny. I'll do the concussion check in a couple of hours," Jessie said, setting the alarm on her watch before turning to watch the rain stream down off the edge of the overhang. She didn't mind camping when she was prepared for it, was the last thought she had before she fell asleep.  
  
In a New York City high rise office, that had a view of the statue of liberty, a computer chimed, signaling that new email had arrived. A tall, broad shouldered man impeccably groomed in an Armani suit, turned to his computer.  
  
He opened the one flagged email that had arrived and smiled. His contact in San Francisco had done his job. He rewarded well for work done right. With a few clicks, he arranged for the money transfer. Even if the Feds found his contact, he knew the man wouldn't talk. He had been paid too well for that and the funds transfer didn't even come from a bank on US soil. He planned well and would contact Doctor Quest once he was sure that the man was back in the US. He wanted Doctor Quest's help with a project and what better way to ensure it than by demonstrating his control over certain events. He checked another window and noticed that the plane was no longer moving and was stopped. He pulled up the mapping program to convert the GPS coordinates and saw that the plane was down between Kalispell and Helena, Montana.   
  
"Excellent," he murmured to himself. His man in San Francisco had done very well indeed.   
  
He picked up a throw away cell phone and dialed a number. "The plane is down on the ground between Helena and Kalispell, Montana. I want you to get in the air and start looking for the Quest boy immediately."  
  
"No can do, boss," the man on the other end of the phone said. "Helena is closed because of storms that aren't expected to let up until nightfall. We've been watching the weather trying to judge what gear we would need when we went after the boy."  
  
"How close can you get?" the suited man asked.  
  
"Kalispell is the closest airport that's open," was the answer.  
  
"Get there and get up in the air and start looking for them as soon as the weather breaks."  
  
"Yes, boss," the man said, clearly expecting this answer. "We'll be there in about two hours."  
  
"I'll contact you then," the man said, turning to look at the view of the Statue of Liberty.  
  
"Yes, boss," the hired help said and hung up the phone.  
  
The suited man set the cell phone down and admired the view this office offered.   
  
Someone had to be willing to go the extra step to protect America's interests and he had chosen to take the lead in doing so. Quietly, of course. He wasn't one to bring attention to his actions, that he left for the politicians.   
  
In a hangar, a dark haired man hit the end button on his cell phone and turned to the other three men sitting in the small office. "It's a go."  
  
"Where are we headed?" asked the one who had been sitting with his feet up on the desk.  
  
"Kalispell, Montana. Our target is down on the ground somewhere between there and Helena," the man with the cell phone said.  
  
"Do we have coordinates?"  
  
"Yeah, we've got GPS coordinates from the plane," was the answer from the one sprawled on the couch in front of a laptop computer.  
  
"I'll go get the plane warmed up," said the one who had been leaning against the doorframe.  
  
The one with the cell phone nodded and said to the others, "Pack it up, gents. We've got our marching orders now."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the other three men had all their gear stowed on board the plane and they were taxiing for the runway from a private airport outside Eugene, Oregon.  
  
True to his word, their employer called back in two hours time, just as they were unloading the plane in a private hangar in Kalispell.  
  
"Have you arrived?" the boss asked.  
  
"Yes, sir," cell phone replied. "We landed a short time ago and just rented a hangar for the plane."  
  
"Get a vehicle and lodging and be prepared to get moving at first light. You need to find the plane before the real search parties do," their boss said.  
  
"Yes, sir," cell phone answered. "I've got Jonsey working on the car now. I know of a place with rental cabins that shouldn't be too busy yet."  
  
"Scratch that. Stick with bunking in the hangar, or camping. The less people who see you, the better. Head for the holding location once you retrieve the item in question." Patriot ordered.   
  
"Gotcha, boss. Good thing we packed camping gear." Cell phone answered with a grimace. The last thing he wanted to do was to camp out when the weather was wet up in the mountains. It could still turn to snow this time of year. Unlikely, but it could happen.  
  
Cell phone turned at the approach of a vehicle, seeing Jonsey pulling up in a full sized fully equipped Ford Expedition. He nodded when the other man climbed out of the vehicle and said, "We'll contact you when we get the package." 


	4. Chapter 4 Something Wicked This Way Come

Jonny was the one who noticed that the forest had gone quiet around them first. Being temporarily blinded, he knew he had to rely on his other senses to tell him what was happening. His shoulders hunching, as if against a chill, he cocked his head to listen.  
  
"Jess?" He called out quietly, afraid of alerting who, or what, ever that was in the woods watching them. She didn't hear him right away, so he called out again louder this time, "Jessie?"

/

Jessie, washing her muddied jeans in the swollen stream, lifted her head. She looked back to Jonny who was sitting up now with his shoulders hunched.  
  
"Don't you hear it, Jess?" Jonny said to her, his head tilted as if listening for something.  
  
Jessie stopped, and moved away from the water. It wasn't right. The forest was too quiet around them. "Stay down, Jonny. Your reflexes are shot right now."  
  
"But, Jess- " Jonny protested.  
  
"Stay down," she repeated firmly. She had a bad feeling about this and moved quickly away from the stream to position herself at Jonny's feet.  
  
Not more than ten seconds later, a bird quickly went winging by, desperately trying to gain distance and air from whatever had startled it. About thirty seconds after that, one man emerged from the forest from the direction that the startled bird had taken off from.   
  
With a seemingly guileless grin, the man stepped forward and said, "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
Jessie kept her weight balanced on the balls of her feet, ready for action. She didn't think this guy was one of the search party that she knew to be out looking for them. Anyone from the search party would be calling their names by now.   
  
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion she asked, "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm one of the good guys. I'm part of the search party looking for you," the man said.   
  
Jessie took note of his appearance, jeans, flannel shirt, baseball cap, and hiking boots. All too ordinary and nothing was wrong in his appearance, but something just screamed wrong to Jessie.  
  
"Really?" she asked, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Sure am," the man said, flashing a smile at her and stepping closer. "Here, would you like to see my id?"   
  
Again, perfectly reasonable, but Jessie didn't relax her guard. Her instincts just screamed at her that the man was armed and dangerous.  
  
There was a hint of a noise coming from behind her and Jessie turned to see two more men come around the other side of the rock face. The hair on the back of her neck standing straight on end, she took note of their appearance. One with dark hair and again a ball cap pulled low on his brow, shading his eyes just gave Jessie the impression that he didn't want her to see his face clearly. His companion had a dark complexion with dark hair, indicating Mediterranean descent, streaked with blond highlights.  
  
The first one had stepped closer to Jessie than she had realized while she had turned to note the approach of the other two. She didn't like this at all. It all screamed wrong to her.  
  
Flannel shirt spoke to her, "All we want is the boy."  
  
_Man, oh man, why did I have to be right? _Jessie thought to herself. She snapped out, "Sorry, no can do."   
  
Flannel shirt tried to reason with her, "If you let us have him, you can stand to make a lot of money."  
  
"Sorry, no can do," Jessie repeated. "It's not about the money, you see."

/

Jonny stayed quiet, unsure of what was happening, but knew they were in trouble, wished he had the coordination to help her. Man, what a way to start the summer break!  
  
The other two approached and one grabbed Jonny, hauling him to his feet, before he could make a move to defend himself.   
  
"Jess!" he called out, struggling to get free, but the one who held him had quickly twisted both hands up behind his back. His coordination was so not there and he couldn't free himself from the firm hold.

/

"Last chance. Let us take him and nobody gets hurt," flannel shirt said, a hint of malice on his face.  
  
"No can do," Jessie repeated, dropping back a step to lash out with a roundhouse kick at flannel shirt.  
  
Caught slightly off guard, flannel shirt let out a surprised "Oof!" as Jessie's kick connected with his midsection. He straightened back up and said, "That was a mistake, girly."  
  
"Your mistake was thinking that I'd let you have him," Jessie said, settling back into a fighting stance.   
  
"Get him out of here," flannel shirt said to his cohorts holding Jonny.   
  
"Jess?" Jonny grunted.   
  
"Wet noodle," Jessie called out over her shoulder. She could hear Jonny scrabbling behind her, but didn't dare take her attention off flannel shirt in front of her. He was the one in charge of the goons and she needed to keep him focused on her in order to give Jonny a chance.  
  
It took Jonny a second to figure it out and went limp in his captor's hands. The sudden movement caused his captor's grasp to slacken just enough for him to lurch free.  
  
"Jonny, run!" Jessie called out, keeping her attention on the goon in front of her.   
  
If Jonny could get past him, he might have a chance to hide in the forest long enough for the real search party to find them.  
  
Jessie figured flannel shirt would lunge for Jonny, but he kept his attention on her. He made a move towards her with a backhanded swipe that she easily blocked and positioned herself between the startled goons who were hot on Jonny's heels and Jonny who'd just managed to get past her.  
  
"Keep moving, Jonny," Jessie ordered sharply, ducking under a high kick thrown at her by flannel shirt.

/

Jonny stumbled forward, not daring to look back. That was how the bad guys caught you - when you paused to look back over your shoulder. Not like that would do him a lot of good right now. He could barely open his eyes, let alone make out anything with any clarity right now.  
  
/

Streaked hair made a grab at Jessie and she spun around with a quick punch to his throat, sent him down to the ground wheezing for breath. Her dad taught her to fight dirty since she was a girl and therefore more susceptible to being attacked.  
  
"Dirty," flannel shirt remarked almost approvingly.  
  
"Yeah," Jessie said, ducking to avoid ball cap's lunge to grab her from behind.   
  
She spun on the loose rocks and swept flannel shirt's feet out from under him and he went down on his back with a thud.  
  
Ball cap made another move, this time shoving Jessie from behind, pushing her off balance enough for flannel shirt to knock her off her feet with a quick slash of his leg.  
  
Jessie went down, but kept flannel shirt out of range with a scissor kick while ball cap tried to grab her arms. She bit his right forearm hard enough to make him let go with a yelp and before he could reach back and slap or punch her, she reached up and punched him in the groin. Ball cap crumpled with a groan, leaving it down to Jessie and flannel shirt for the moment.  
  
They both got back to their feet at the same time and flannel shirt managed to land a kick that sent her stumbling back.  
  
Flannel shirt moved in closer, this time with a punch at her sternum that she just barely managed to deflect, and she stepped in closer to flannel shirt to try and try and disable him. She went for a punch to the throat that he deflected, and her groin punch he managed to avoid with a quick twist of his hips and the punch glanced off his hip.  
  
Jessie frowned at not being able to drop flannel shirt quickly. His buddies wouldn't stay down for long. She only hoped she could give Jonny enough time to get away.   
  
Flannel shirt moved back and managed to get off a snap kick that she caught with her upper right arm. The blow instantly numbed her arm from the force of it, and she knew that she'd have one heck of bruise.  
  
Jessie closed in again to do the three step takedown - instep, knee, groin- but her opponent was prepared for her and pulled her in tight. She didn't panic but planted her feet and dug in hard with her left elbow into his ribs. He grunted, but didn't let go. She couldn't do the 'grab and twist' move since she was being held flush against his body, and he was protecting that most vulnerable area. Next step, the head bash her dad had taught her. It might not disable him, but it should disorient him enough for her to get free. She reared back and felt her head connect solidly with his nose. With a surprised yelp of pain, his grip loosened enough for her to move back into position to do the three step takedown.  
  
Jessie stomped down hard on flannel shirt's foot and then lashed out with a fast kick at his knee that had him howling in pain, but he still managed to deflect the groin punch by jumping back out of her way.   
  
Flannel shirt retaliated with a hard punch to her sternum that she didn't manage to block in time. Jessie went stumbling back, gasping for breath, more from the unexpected pain of the blow than actually having the wind knocked out of her. That punch told her he was serious about ending this fight now.  
  
Jessie looked back over her shoulder to see that streaked hair was still on the ground, holding his throat, but that ball cap had regained his feet. He was pasty pale, but he was back in the fight. Jessie knew she was in trouble now. She could hold her own against flannel shirt, but ball cap and flannel shirt combined?  
  
"I hope you got a good lead, Jonny," Jessie muttered under her breath.  
  
Ball cap went for the brute force maneuver and rammed into Jessie, shoving her face first into the rocky shore of the stream. The impact scraped her right cheek and made her eyes tear up. She fought to keep a hold on her temper. That was just like a bully - knocking the smaller person down. He didn't have enough coordination back yet to keep her pinned down, so she managed to knock him off her without too much effort before flannel shirt moved back in.  
  
Jessie aimed for flannel shirt's right knee again, this time looking to cripple him after the painful blow she had already dealt there. She sent flannel shirt down with that kick, quite sure she had possibly torn ligaments in his knee. She spun about to take ball cap back down, but he moved into the kick and grabbed hold of her ankle to twist it viciously. The twist turned her own momentum against her, sending her to the ground with a sharp cry of pain.  
  
"You just had to try and do your job and protect him, didn't you?" Ball cap sneered and grabbed her by her braid, hauling her painfully back to her feet.  
  
This was where having a pair of daggers hidden at her waist would have really come in handy - pull 'em out and get the bad guy in the nuts. She knew how to fight dirty but she hadn't figured on needing to be armed for the flight to San Francisco and back to Rockport.  
  
"You may have bought him time, but we'll still find him," Ball cap said, pulling on her hair so she had to look him straight on.  
  
"Good luck," Jessie spat, trying to free her hair from his grasp. Her ankle was screaming bloody murder and wouldn't hold her weight. "He was trained by the best."  
  
"We'll see about that. Now it's time for you to stay down," Ball cap said and drew back his fist to connected solidly with her right cheekbone.  
  
Jessie saw stars explode across her vision and felt herself falling before she was wrapped in darkness and knew nothing more.  
  
/

At first, Jonny plunged blindly into the forest, just trying to put distance between him and those chasing him. Then logic kicked in and told him that he couldn't outrun them. Not in his condition. He had to hide and try to hold out until someone from the search party found them. He forced himself to slow down and move carefully. The less trail he left, the harder it would be to find him. He slowed down even more when he thought he heard something behind him. He tilted his head to listen but didn't hear anything. Okay, he thought, now would be a pretty good time to hunker down and find a spot to hide. He had a sneaking suspicion that the bad guys had someone else hidden in the woods, waiting for him to try and make a run for it.  
  
He paused and managed to see a brush patch in front of him not more than ten feet away. He moved towards it, intending to bury himself in the middle of the greenery, he only hoped that it didn't have any poison ivy or sumac in the brush patch. He crouched down in the ground cover and pulled some of the brush up to try and cover up and blend in a bit more with the landscape. Purposely slowing his breathing, he listened carefully for the sound of someone approaching. His vision was blurred and still doubling when he kept his eyes open for too long. All in all, it just sucked. His breath caught in his throat as he heard the sound of something moving nearby, and the woods went silent around him again. He seriously hoped it was a predator of the four-legged type and not the two-legged type that was close by.  
  
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Quest," a voice said right next to Jonny almost.  
  
Shit, Jonny thought to himself. Busted. But, he stayed still, hoping the guy hadn't actually found him.  
  
"I have to admit, pulling up the ground cover and draping it over you was a very good attempt at camouflage. I would have walked right by you if I hadn't seen you dive into this patch here and you'd had more time to cover yourself."  
  
Definitely busted, Jonny thought and kept his eyes closed as he felt a hand grab his upper arm and pull him to his feet.   
  
"It's time to come along quietly now, young Mr. Quest," said the guy gripping his arm.  
  
Jonny's mind was racing. How could he get away? He didn't think the wet noodle trick would work a second time. He opted for ramming his elbow into the diaphragm of the guy holding him. He could tell the guy wasn't expecting him to have enough strength in him to do that, but adrenaline was a powerful aid at times. He pulled his arm free as the guy wheezed and gasped for breath. He spun and shoved the goon off his feet before turning and running further up the slope in the hopes of finding heavier brush cover.   
  
He knew he had only bought himself maybe a few minutes more, but he needed to leave some sort of mark to let Race and the other know he hadn't gone willingly and where to start looking for him. He didn't have anything on him that he could leave to mark his trail for when the bad guys eventually caught up to him. He worried about Jessie, but she was better able to take care of herself right now than he was. Think, Jonny! He told himself. He searched the ground cover before finding a small rock with a pointed enough end on it to scratch out his initials on a tree trunk. It took more time than he wanted, since the bark was still soaked from the previous day's rain.   
  
When he finished, he could hear his pursuers closing in on him again. He listened hard and could swear that he heard at least two people moving towards him. Damn, one of them must have gotten by Jessie after all. He moved for another brush patch this time, one with some young, springy saplings that he could bend back and then use to hit his pursuers in the face, hopefully. He kept hold of the rock he'd used to carve his initials, figuring it would come in handy and buried himself in the brush, waiting for his pursuers to close in. He closed his tearing and swollen eyes and concentrated on letting his ears tell him how close his pursuers were.  
  
Finally, Jonny could hear that someone was right in front of his hiding spot. He knew that his camouflage wouldn't keep them from finding him for long. He heard a voice call out, "Found him!"  
  
Jonny let go of the saplings and was rewarded with hearing them hit and the cursing of the man they hit. He sprang from his hiding spot and ran in a zigzag pattern away from him. It didn't help. He ran straight into the man all in black that had found him the first time.  
  
"Now, that wasn't very nice, young Mr. Quest," the man said, slightly winded sounding and not too happy with Jonny now.  
  
"Sorry, cooperating for the bad guys isn't something I can easily do," Jonny retorted and, with that small, pointed rock in hand, sliced at the guy's throat. Like Jessie, he had been taught to fight dirty in order to survive. His strength and willpower weren't enough to actually dig in deep with the slice and cut the jugular, but he did draw blood.  
  
He was rewarded with a backhanded slap for his efforts that left him seeing stars behind his closed eyelids and succeeded in bringing back to the screaming forefront, his throbbing headache.  
  
"That's not nice, kid," said the goon who'd gotten hit by the saplings.  
  
"Sorry," Jonny said, his voice lacking its usual energy and most of its sarcasm, "It's just not in my nature to make it easy for the bad guys."  
  
"We're not the bad guys," the goon said, grabbing Jonny's other arm. "We're just entrepreneurs."  
  
"Yeah, right," Jonny snorted, feeling like his knees were made of rubber.   
  
Without meaning to, he sagged in the bad guys' arms.  
  
"No more tricks, kid," said the tree-faced goon.  
  
"Not a trick," Jonny mumbled, suddenly finding his tongue thick and unwieldy. "Damn..." he mumbled, recognizing the signs. "Gonna pass out..." Despite his wanting to stay awake to see where he was being taken, he lost that fight and did pass out.


	5. Chapter 5 The Game is Afoot

Benton and Hadji didn't arrive back in Maine until nearly midnight local time. Race greeted them as the plane taxied to a stop at the Quest hangar.  
  
"Good to see you back, Benton," he said to him as the scientist disembarked from the plane.  
  
Bandit jumped down from Race's arms then ran in excited circles, barking at Benton and Hadji.  
  
"Good to see you too, Race," Benton answered with a sigh before bending down to pet Bandit. "Yes, Bandit, I'm glad to see you too."  
  
Bandit squirmed and took off to run in circles around Hadji.   
  
Benton straightened up and looked to Race, "Have you heard anything else?"  
  
Race shook his head in the negative, "Not much, but I got the name of the FBI SAC - one Nicholas Eriksson. He called me and said he'd meet us at the airport in Helena."  
  
Benton raised an eyebrow, "At what, three am local time?"  
  
Race nodded. "Apparently, Phil Corvin decided that you rate having your protection upped right now."  
  
"So, how bad is it going to be?" Benton asked with a mild frown. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of federal agents keeping him from helping with the search to find his son and his best friend's daughter.  
  
"I don't know, but I told him that you wouldn't put up with having to sit back in Helena when you could be up in the mountains, leading us directly to the kids."  
  
Benton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was going to make him go completely gray yet, he thought distractedly. He knew Jonny and Jessie could take care of themselves, but what if they were hurt? With a mental shake, he tuned back to hear Race say, "...all warmed up and ready to go."  
  
Hadji knelt down to pet Bandit and laughed, "Yes, Bandit, we're back and you're coming with us to go get Jonny and Jessie."  
  
Bandit cocked his head for a second, then took off running towards the Dragonfly, only to pause and look back towards them like they weren't moving fast enough.  
  
"Give us a minute, Bandit," Hadji told the dog, and stood up to hear what Race and Benton were saying.   
  
Andrea Agrotera emerged from the plane moments after Benton and Hadji and opened the hatch for the luggage hold on the exterior of the plane. She handed out Benton and Hadji's luggage to them before pulling out her suitcase. "Are we ready to go, Race?"  
  
Race stared at her for a second, "We?"  
  
"Yes, I'm going with you," Andrea stated. "My job is to protect the best interests of the company and this just happens to fall in that category. Besides, I'm fully checked out on a helicopter and I've had paramedic training."  
  
Race blinked, clearly having forgotten the details of Andrea's training in all the worry about the kids' plane going down. "All right then, but what about Marco? How's he going to get home?"  
  
"Maria's coming to get him," Andrea said with a small smile. She had things planned out, it seemed.  
  
Right as she said that, a minivan pulled up to the hangar and the driver's side window rolled down to reveal a lady with curly dark hair who greeted them as her husband parked the jet in the hangar and powered it down.   
  
Andrea turned back to Race and said, "Are we ready?"  
  
Benton watched Race shake his head, having been caught off guard at how things had been arranged. His friend looked down to Bandit who barked up at him, clearly ready to go. "I guess we are."  
  
"Have you done pre-flight check, yet?" Andrea asked, falling in besides Race as they crossed the tarmac to the waiting Dragonfly.  
  
"Yes, we're ready for take off at any time."  
  
"Great. Let's get to Montana then," Andrea said with a small smile.  
  
Bandit ran around in excited circles around Andrea now, putting his seal of approval on her joining the team.  
  
Within minutes, they had their luggage stowed and were in the air again just moments after that. When they finally landed in Helena, it was still raining and close to three a.m. mountain time. Even before Race had backed the sturdy four-wheel drive vehicle off the ramp in the back of the Dragonfly, they were met by the FBI escort headed up by the Helena SAC, Special Agent Eriksson.  
  
"Doctor Quest?" A tall gentleman with jet black hair, wearing a thin black leather coat got out of the four-wheel drive vehicle with government issue plates and approached them.   
  
Andrea stepped up to Benton's side, ready, willing and able to shove him out of the way in order to defend him.  
  
The man said, "I'm Agent Eriksson, I'm here to escort you to the hotel."  
  
"Where is command central?" Benton asked, shouldering his laptop.  
  
"It's at the Wingate Inn on North Oakes. It's only a little over a mile from here," Eriksson answered, handing Benton his ID packet.  
  
It was worn, having seen use, and appeared genuine to Benton's eye. He handed it back to the agent and said, "Do you have rooms for us there?"  
  
"Yes, Doctor Quest," the agent answered, putting his ID packet away back in his coat. "I have two rooms for you."  
  
"That will be fine," Benton said, incredibly tired and realizing he needed to get some solid rest or else he would be of no use to help with the search in the morning.   
  
"Let's get you to your hotel, Doctor Quest. It's going to be a long day once the sun comes up," Eriksson said.  
  
"Yes, yes," Benton agreed, smothering a yawn. "Hadji?"  
  
Hadji stepped forward with Bandit in his arms, looking more alert than his adopted father.   
  
He knew what Benton wanted him to tell the FBI agent, "We can provide the search team with the exact coordinates of Jonny and Jessie."  
  
Eriksson quirked an eyebrow in surprise.  
  
"We have GPS transmitters in our watches that we can activate in an emergency," Hadji explained.  
  
Eriksson's eyebrow remained quirked. This was something he didn't know.  
  
Race pulled up then, after securing the rear hatch on the Dragonfly and nodded to the FBI agent, "Where are we headed?"  
  
"Wingate Inn on North Oakes," Andrea supplied. "Agent Eriksson here has a pair of rooms for us."  
  
"That command central?" Race asked, looking at Eriksson.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Bannon," Eriksson answered with a nod.  
  
"Great. Then lead the way. We need to get some sleep if we're going to be climbing the mountains come daylight," Race said.  
  
Having their marching orders, Benton, Hadji and Andrea climbed into the Quest vehicle and Eriksson climbed back behind the wheel of his vehicle to lead the way to the hotel.  
  
Much to Race's displeasure, they found the press camped out in their vans, just hoping for a chance to get some sound bite from either the FBI agent or the famous Dr. Quest.   
  
Race pulled out his mobile and dialed the FBI agent's mobile phone when he caught sight of the press.  
  
"Eriksson, we've got a problem."  
  
"No, we don't, Mr. Bannon," was the smooth answer as the FBI agent pulled around to the back of the hotel. "I already have your keycards. We'll be going in the back door and heading straight up to your rooms."  
  
Race hung up and followed the FBI agent to the back of the hotel.   
  
When the weary group approached the back door, Eriksson pulled out his phone and called a number, "Kierra? It's Uncle Chris. Let me know when the coast is clear." He paused and when he received an answer, pulled out the keycard and opened the door for the group to precede him in. He then ushered the group up the stairway to the third floor before handing over two small cardstock packets.  
  
"These are your rooms. You're in 316 and 318 - the two largest suites in the hotel. My niece, Kierra, is working the overnight shift on the front desk, so she's on duty until 7 am."  
  
"When will the search party be forming up, Agent Eriksson?" Benton asked.  
  
"Sunrise is at 6:27 and if it's not storming, we'll be heading up into the mountains shortly after that," was the answer. "Believe me when I say that having the GPS location of your son and Mr. Bannon's daughter, Doctor Quest, will make finding them just that much easier," Eriksson stated.  
  
Race commented, "Well, Jonny's a magnet for trouble and Jessie is normally right behind him."   
  
Eriksson bowed his head down for a moment, fighting to hide a smile. "I hesitate to think what my own kids would get into if I had your resources, Doctor Quest. They get into enough trouble as it is."   
  
That brought a fleeting smile to Benton's face. "Thank you for your help, Agent Eriksson."  
  
"All part of a day's work, Doctor Quest. I'll see you in a few hours." Eriksson said with a nod and headed for the elevators.  
  
The Quest team settled into their rooms to get some rest since they knew that the following day was going to be a long one.   
  
6:15 am arrived and Hadji and Andrea were the ones who were awakened first by knocks on their door. It was Kierra, the front desk clerk bearing overloaded trays of food and juice for them along with two carafes of coffee.  
  
"We don't start serving breakfast until seven, but Uncle Chris is on his way back over here and you need to eat before you head up to the mountains," she explained, handing the trays over to Hadji and Andrea.  
  
"Thank you," Hadji said with a smile and a small bow.  
  
Andrea smiled gratefully, looked at the tray and answered, "You know my weakness for cheese Danishes!"  
  
"I didn't but they're mine too," Kierra replied. "If you need anything else, just call. The search and rescues teams are starting to arrive - I've got the conference room set up for them and the media is camping out in the lobby waiting for the press briefing."  
  
"So, should we avoid the lobby?" Andrea asked.  
  
"Uncle Chris will be here in just a few minutes and he'll walk you down to the conference room," was the answer.  
  
"Great. So, we can avoid the press and get the show on the road?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," was the smiled answer.  
  
"Finally, things are starting to move in the right direction," Andrea commented.  
  
"Enjoy your breakfast, ma'am," Kierra said and headed back for the lobby.   
  
Andrea shut the door and placed the tray and carafe on the table in the kitchenette of the suite.  
  
Race emerged from the shower, freshly shaved and buttoning up his standard red shirt. "Do I smell coffee?"  
  
"Yes, Eriksson's niece just brought up fresh coffee and food for us."  
  
"Great," Race answered before pouring himself a cup of the hot coffee. After the first sip he asked, "Are Benton and Hadji awake yet?"  
  
"Yes and Eriksson's en route to bring us down to the briefing in the conference room before we have the press conference in the lobby," Andrea replied, picking up one of the cheese Danishes.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Agent Eriksson arrived, dressed in jeans, hiking boots and a windbreaker that said FBI across the back, and escorted the Quest team down to the conference room where Hadji hooked his laptop up to the computer projector that was sitting in the conference room, along with more carafes of coffee and platters of Danishes and pastries. The conference room was full of people all dressed in sturdy clothing and most, if not all of them, wearing bright orange safety vests with reflective stripes over their jackets. Just as Hadji finished setting up his laptop to the projector, in swept Whitmore in suit and tie.  
  
Eriksson caught Race and Andrea's eyes and rolled his own, giving a clear indication of his feelings towards the FAA Incident Director. "Political appointee," he mouthed to them.   
  
"I'm James Whitmore," he said, presenting himself in front of Benton.  
  
Benton kept his face neutral and said, "Benton Quest. Do you have any further news on my son's plane?"  
  
"I'll be leading the press conference and relaying to the press what we know after the briefing," Whitmore said.  
  
"In other words, you don't know anything yet, do you?" Race said, stepping up behind Benton. His phone conversation last night had left him with a bad feeling about this FAA official and this seemed to prove it.  
  
"Well, why don't we get on with the briefing?" Whitmore said, uncomfortable under Race's direct gaze.  
  
"Yes, let's. I want to get up into the mountains to find my son and Jessie and find the plane," Benton answered with a curt nod of his head.  
  
Whitmore stepped to the podium and Eriksson stepped up to be behind him to the left, out of the way of the 3-D map projection on the whiteboard wall.  
  
"Good morning everyone, thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules and coming out so early," Whitmore began the briefing.  
  
In the end, it had been Eriksson the searchers had turned to with their questions and suggestions. It turned out that one of the team leaders, a lawyer and a Native American by name of Richard Red Hawk was the one who knew the area where Jonny and Jessie's personal locaters had placed them at.   
  
"This is Eagle Ridge," he said, getting up to point at the spot on the map that Iris had identified as Jonny and Jessie's current location. "Nearest road to there is still five miles away. It's a solid hike up there in good weather and it looks like they're right on the banks of Schwartz Creek. The most direct route, you would have to get across Schwartz Creek. Normally it wouldn't be much more than a trickle, but with the snow melt and yesterday's rains, it'll be running high and fast."  
  
"How much of a detour are we talking here, Rich?" Eriksson questioned, studying the map with narrowed eyes. It was clear to everyone in the room who was actually in charge of the search and rescue operation.   
  
"Nearest bridge over Schwartz Creek from their location - you're talking ten miles hike then," Richard answered.  
  
"Well, the teams will just have to go in by helicopter then," Whitmore said, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. "I have the authority to requisition the necessary equipment."  
  
"Whoa there!" Richard exclaimed, staring at Whitmore as if he was one pop-top short of a six pack. "Going by helicopter isn't an option."  
  
"Mr. Red Hawk, I'm sure you mean well, but I assure you that -- "  
  
"If you want another crash, you go right ahead and send in helicopter teams, Whitmore, but I guarantee that you'll be launching a second search and rescue within the day."  
  
"Why do you say that, sir?" Andrea asked, turning a curious but wholly respectful gaze upon the lawyer.  
  
Richard shook his head. "No real good landing spots up there. The tree cover is just too dense. Combine that with the windsheer factor and you have a deadly environment for helicopter-based rescues."  
  
Andrea frowned as she processed that information. It clearly meant that extraction would be more difficult if either Jessie or Jonny needed immediate medical attention. She knew how hard helicopter extractions were in ideal conditions, but up in the mountains with gusting winds?  
  
"All right, any other questions?" Eriksson asked, scanning the room. Seeing none, he said, "Then, let's get to it, people. We've got two people who've been up on the mountain overnight and we don't know their condition. So, the sooner we can bring them down, the better we'll all feel."  
  
Whitmore turned to Eriksson and said, "But, we need to get the plane! We need to find out why the emergency beacons on the black boxes aren't working, and we need them to figure out why the plane went down!"  
  
"My job is first and foremost to see to the safe retrieval of Jonny Quest and Jessie Bannon, Whitmore. I want to know why that plane went down too, but that is a secondary concern to getting those two back safely," Eriksson stated in a low, even tone. "Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Whitmore gulped and nodded. He was a political appointee and he knew it. Eriksson was an agent through and through and had climbed his way to his current position by merit and skill.  
  
"Now, I believe you have a press conference to attend, Whitmore. Go out and play nice with the media and let me get on with my job of rescuing those kids," Eriksson said, tilting his head towards the lobby, where the media awaited.  
  
"But -" Whitmore stammered. "Doctor Quest -"  
  
"Is my key to finding those kids and fast. I'm sure he'll be willing to make a statement to the press - but not right now. We're leaving out the back door while you go hold your press conference. Do you understand, Whitmore?"  
  
"Y-yes, Agent Eriksson," Whitmore stammered out.  
  
"Good," Eriksson said with a nod before turning back to the Quest party. "Let's move out."  
  
Race fell into step next to the FBI agent with Benton and Andrea close behind and Hadji bringing up the rear.  
  
Once out of the room, Race commented to Eriksson, "Smooth handling there."  
  
"He's a pompous windbag who likes to hear the sound of his own voice," Eriksson answered, moving at a ground eating stride. "He's basically a puppet - his team does all the real work and he just likes to come in and claim all the attention."  
  
"I gathered that," Race said dryly. "So, whose team are we on?"  
  
"Rich's. He knows the best way up to Eagle Ridge."  
  
"And, who will lead the other team?" Race questioned.  
  
"His brother Charlie - he's just as good as Rich in tracking. What one doesn't find, the other will. They make one hell of team," Eriksson said, not bothering to hide the respect he had for the two brothers.  
  
It took a few more minutes to arrange everyone in the vehicles with adequate food and equipment. By choice, Andrea and Hadji ended up going with Charlie's group.  
  
"I figure if we take the five mile route, we might be able to find the plane," she'd explained her choice. She didn't say that she wanted to provide back up in case something happened to the primary team.   
  
Hadji's reasoning was to quote proverbs, "It is not wise to place all your eggs in one basket."  
  
"Keep in touch, Hadj," Benton cautioned.  
  
"Of course, Doctor Quest," Hadji answered, indicating his cell phone at his waist.  
  
"Same goes for you, Andrea," Race put in.  
  
Andrea hid a smile and said, "Yes, Race."  
  
Then, with backpacks stuffed with various food and supplies, they headed to the separate vehicles to begin the trek up to the mountains. It was ninety miles on the main interstate between Kalispell and Helena, then about another eighty miles on back roads that wound around the mountains, gaining altitude. Finally, it was onto a muddy gravel road that came to an abrupt end for Race as they faced a creek that was indeed swollen over its banks.  
  
"Here's where we get out," Rich said. "We have about ten miles to hike from here."  
  
"Do we follow the creek the whole way?" Benton asked, getting out of the vehicle.  
  
"Pretty much," Agent Eriksson said and turned to their guide, "Isn't that right, Rich?"  
  
"You're learning," Rich answered with a smirk at the other man.   
  
Taking note of the camaraderie between the pair, Race asked, "So, how long have you two been working together?"  
  
"Too long," Eriksson laughed, settling his backpack into place. "I was the farm boy from Minnesota and here he was know-it-all Indian smart-ass. I can't tell you the amount of trouble we got into."  
  
"Our professors hated having us in class together," Rich smirked, settling his backpack into place with a practiced ease.  
  
"Harvard law was not ready for us," Eriksson said, strapping a fanny pack marked with a red cross on the front of it around his waist.   
  
He secured his radio to his waist and turned to see how the other group was doing. The other half of Rich's team, combined with trained personnel from his office, all were gearing up and double checking their packs and radios.  
  
"Everyone ready?" Rich asked, looking over his group and finally, Race and Benton.  
  
Nods and general consensus came from all around.  
  
"Here's the deal - we're going to split off into two groups. Mike - I want you to lead up group two and see if you can find the plane. We need to find the black boxes and figured out why that plane went down and why the emergency beacons didn't fire on it. Radio check every hour or if you find something."  
  
"Got it, boss man," answered a man called Mike who had jet black hair in two braids. He motioned to his group and they split off and headed up into the woods with a couple of the FBI agents.   
  
"All right, let's head out. We've got a long hike in front of us," Eriksson said, doing his own double check of his packs.   
  
As much as Benton would have liked to have kept pushing forward, he knew he needed to pace himself and didn't protest when Rich called a break about halfway up the mountain parallel to the stream. He leaned heavily against a tree and took slow, careful sips of his water, wondering if Jonny and Jessie were all right.  
  
He caught Race's eye, knowing that his friend was thinking the same thing. At least they were closer to getting to the kids and he was having serious doubts about letting Jonny out of his sight ever again.  
  
"When we get them back, we are not letting them out of sight, ever again," Race echoed what Benton was thinking.  
  
Benton chuckled and said, "I was just thinking the same thing, Race." 


	6. Chapter 6 Does Fifty Percent Count?

  
  
Andrea and Hadji had to take a different route to begin their hike with the other search and rescue group.   
  
"Do you think we will find anything over here, Andrea?" Hadji asked as they began their hike.  
  
"I don't know, Hadji," Andrea shrugged. "I have to go with Race on this one - things just aren't adding up here. There was no reason that Jonny and Jessie should have had engine problems."  
  
Hadji tilted his head, "But, they reported engine overheat, did they not? Could that have been genuine mechanical problems?"  
  
"I doubt it, Hadji. Each plane in the Quest fleet is meticulously maintained - if there was the slightest hint of a thermostat going bad, it would have been replaced immediately," Andrea explained.  
  
Hadji was silent for a moment, "Do you know if the maintenance records are in a computer database?"  
  
"I don't know, they should be. I don't pay as much attention to the maintenance schedule on the planes as I probably should. I do a visual inspection of each plane I fly before take-off like any good pilot, and look at the maintenance log to be sure there isn't anything I need to be concerned with. But overseeing the actual repairs? That's not my area of expertise, so I tend to stay out of the mechanic's hair and let them do the actual work."  
  
Hadji processed this, keeping his thoughts to himself. Andrea was a trained bodyguard and pilot, yes, but she admitted she wasn't a mechanic. He would ask Race when they met up later that day. He was pretty sure that the mechanical logs would be in a database, but the question remained if that computer was tied into the corporate network.  
  
They continued their hike, looking for signs of the aircraft, or signs of Jessie and Jonny. The going wasn't easy - the ground was slick still from the heavy rains of the day before and the climb burned their calf muscles. The search and rescue team they were with moved steadily through the woods, pacing themselves for the trek back to their vehicles and taking care to keep hydrated.  
  
It was almost noon before Charlie called for them to take a fifteen minute break to eat lunch. Then, it was back to the hike before their muscles could have a chance to stiffen up in the cool air.  
  
"I think that whirlpool is going to get some use tonight," Andrea commented, taking a sip from her water bottle. "I haven't hiked this much in a long time."  
  
"I believe you are right," Hadji agreed. He checked his watch, checking to see how much distance they had covered. It was almost five miles. "We should be closing in on Jessie and Jonny's location shortly."  
  
"Let's hope so, Hadji. Let's hope so. I know we'll all rest a lot easier once we get them back."   
  
Charlie's radio crackled and it was Rich for their hourly check. His group was still about four miles out from Jonny and Jessie's position. Something was tossed back in forth in a language that neither Andrea or Hadji spoke, but the end result had those who heard the answer laughing.  
  
Hadji quirked his head, trying to identify the language. It sounded like Navajo and Apache combined, but it wasn't. He looked to Andrea who shook her head.  
  
"Don't ask me. I did European languages, not Native American," Andrea answered.  
  
One of the team members smiled and said, "It's a running joke between the two of them about a 'failure to communicate.'"  
  
Hadji asked, "But what is the language?"  
  
"Crow. Charlie and Rich are both full Crow," was the simple answer.  
  
"That is a language I do not know," Hadji said as they entered a clearing.  
  
"How many languages do you know?" Andrea asked.  
  
"I forget. I know how to do the basics in many languages, but fluently? About ten, I believe," Hadji answered, looking around the clearing. He could hear the rushing water in the distance.  
  
"We're almost to your friend's location," the woman said.  
  
"How much further?" Andrea asked.  
  
"Less than a half mile now," the woman replied.  
  
"Good," Andrea said.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the plotted location. The creek was indeed running high and fast. at first she didn't see either Jessie or Jonny. Andrea was about ready to curse and did so when Hadji spotted Jessie's still form first.  
  
"Oh, this is _not _good. There's Jessie - but where is Jonny?"  
  
"Shit," Andrea cursed succinctly. "More importantly - why is Jessie laying like that? I need to get over there now."  
  
Charlie was on his radio letting Rich know that they had reached the site and had spotted Jessie, but no sign of Jonny.  
  
"We need to get across that creek," Andrea said as she marched up to him, Hadji right on her heels to help her make her case.  
  
Charlie looked her up and down before questioning, "How good a swimmer are you?"  
  
"I can take care of myself. We need to get to Jessie now," she answered.  
  
"Give me a moment," Charlie said and turned to one of his team. "Yo, Mikey - you up for a swim?"  
  
The tall, blond man answered, "It'll be damn cold in the water, but like the lady said, boss man, we need to get to the other side now."  
  
"Okay, since I know you packed ropes in your pack, you go across with her and make a path for the rest of us to get across."  
  
"Got it," Mikey said and turned to Andrea, "This is gonna be cold, you ready?"  
  
"For the cold? No. But to get to Jessie's side - yes."  
  
"Let's go and follow my lead."  
  
Andrea nodded and looked to Hadji, "Hadji, you stay here for now. No sense in both of us getting soaked."  
  
"I agree," Hadji nodded. "I will go."  
  
"No. Stay here for now. Doctor Quest and Race will both have my head if you get sick from going in that cold water."  
  
"But, she is my friend - part of my family -" Hadji protested.  
  
"Did you bring a change of clothes with you?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"Why? Because I did and I'm the one that's going in the water to get over there." Andrea explained quickly.  
  
Hadji frowned and cursed in Hindi. "In this case, it appears you are correct, I'm afraid."  
  
"Just stay here for a few more moments. I'm sure that Mikey here has a way to get you across without getting wet." Andrea said briefly with a nod to the man appointed to make a way for the rest of the group across the water.  
  
Mikey nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am."  
  
"All right. I will wait here. But not patiently," Hadji said, giving in.  
  
"Thank you, Hadji. It will only be a few more minutes longer. I promise," Andrea assured him with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Hadji nodded and said, "Take care of her, please."  
  
"I promise," Andrea said then swiftly followed Mikey away from the group.   
  
They jogged upstream about 500 yards before he got into the water.  
  
"Work with the current and let it help you get to the other side," Mike advised.  
  
"Right," Andrea answered, hissing at the cold temperature.   
  
She was glad she had dry clothes in sealed baggies in her pack. She was going to need them after sloshing through the ice cold creek. She looked to Mikey who just seemed to be having the time of his life. Just when she thought that they'd never make it to the other side, Mikey surged forward and out of the creek on the opposite bank.  
  
Following his movements, Andrea managed to get to the bank and gratefully accepted the hand he held out to her with a grin on his face.  
  
"Let me guess, you're part polar bear?" she scowled at him, climbing out of the cold water.  
  
"No, ma'am. Part wolf, maybe," the man grinned. "My mother swears up and down that my brothers and I are a pack of wolves."  
  
Andrea had to smile at the man's sense of humor. It helped her keep her balance in the face of a really bad situation. She rubbed her hands together and stomped her feet, trying to get the blood flowing back into her frozen body.  
  
"You get going on making a way for the rest of them to get over here. We need to find Jonny now." She told the man.  
  
"You'll be okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm frozen, but I'll live," Andrea assured him, slinging her backpack down off her shoulders and moving to Jessie's side.  
  
Mikey nodded and slung his pack off his shoulders and began pulling ropes out of them.  
  
Andrea knelt down at Jessie's side and began taking note of the girl's injuries. She decided to start from Jessie's feet up before she made any move to try and make her more comfortable. The first thing she noticed was Jessie's right ankle. Swollen and hot to the touch, it indicated a bad sprain at the least . Frowning, she did a quick feel for fractures or dislocation and found none. Jessie's right cheek was bruised, swollen and slightly scraped up. The swelling on both those injuries was just too fresh to be caused from the plane crash of the day before. Finding no other easily detectable injuries, she carefully moved Jessie onto her back. The left side of Jessie's face was a mess of scrapes and bruises from hitting the rocks Andrea now knelt on.  
  
"What happened, Jessie?" Andrea asked softly before trying to bring the young woman back to consciousness. Shaking Jessie's shoulder gently she said, "Jessie, come on now. You've got to wake up."  
  
A groan was the first answer Andrea got.  
  
"Jessie, wake up. Where's Jonny?" Andrea tried again.  
  
"Ooowww," Jessie said and tried to raise a hand to her face.  
  
"Just stay still, Jessie," Andrea cautioned.  
  
"Ugh, my face hurts," Jessie said next.  
  
"What happened, Jessie? Where's Jonny?" Andrea asked, digging her first aid kit out of her backpack.  
  
"Jonny?" Jessie asked, clearly trying to focus in on Andrea.  
  
"Yes, Jonny. Where is he? What happened, Jessie?" Andrea repeated her questions.  
  
"Who are you?" Jessie questioned.   
  
Andrea was mildly worried. They didn't know each other well, but they'd met occasionally.   
  
"I'm Andrea. I work for Doctor Quest," Andrea explained. She opened up the first aid kit and grabbed the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide.  
  
"I know you, don't I?" Jessie asked, clearly still trying to put a name to the face.  
  
"Yes, we've met a few times," Andrea said. "Now, hold still, this is gonna sting."   
  
With that, she poured the hydrogen peroxide onto a swab and gently placed it on Jessie's left cheek.  
  
Jessie hissed and jerked involuntarily in reaction to the sudden stinging. The pain managed to clear her foggy mind for a moment and she unsuccessfully fought back tears of pain.   
  
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Jessie said.  
  
"Where else are you hurt, Jessie?" Andrea asked, gently wiping the scraped cheek.  
  
"All over," Jessie said at first and then, "In particular, my right ankle."  
  
"Did you do this in the crash, Jessie?"  
  
"No," Jessie answered. "Ambushed."  
  
"Ambushed?" Andrea asked, feeling even more chilled. "Jessie, what do you mean, ambushed?"  
  
"At least three men. I told Jonny to run," Jessie replied, then yelped when Andrea touched her ankle .  
  
"You did a number on this, Jessie," Andrea said, beginning to undo the laces of Jessie's sneaker.  
  
"Not me, Ball Cap grabbed and twisted," Jessie replied, letting her breath out in a slow hiss.  
  
"What?" Andrea paused and looked up at Jessie in surprise.  
  
"Ball Cap grabbed and twisted when I missed a kick," Jessie explained slowly.  
  
"Why didn't you run with Jonny?"  
  
"Because, they were only after him - not me. Needed to give him time to get away," Jessie said, trying to lift her head up and immediately regretting it as her head started spinning again. "Oh..."  
  
"Jessie, keep your head down," Andrea ordered, "I need you to stay awake with me here."  
  
She managed to loosen the laces on Jessie's sneaker and tried to slide it off without jarring the maltreated ankle. As it was, Jessie let out a stream of fluent Spanish curses as Andrea gently manipulated the swollen joint. Andrea cocked an eyebrow at the language, but couldn't blame her for it. Her quick exam earlier hadn't revealed any broken bones, but the joint didn't feel like it was moving right, the little she did try to move it.  
  
"Good news, I don't think you broke your ankle, Jessie," she reported, digging in her first aid kit for an elastic wrap to support the ankle until it could be properly treated at a hospital in Helena.  
  
"I... didn't think so..." Jessie answered, her voice wavering, she was having trouble staying awake. With effort she said a moment later, "It didn't feel like it at the time. What's the bad news?"  
  
"Torn ligaments or tendons. Which means you're not going anywhere fast for a while," Andrea answered, wrapping the ankle.  
  
"Damn," Jessie sighed, and concentrated on just breathing for a few moments before asking, "Where's my dad?"  
  
"He's on his way, Jessie. He and Doctor Quest took a different way to get here and had to hike longer," Andrea explained.  
  
"Need to tell him -" Jessie's voice trailed off and she went limp.  
  
"Jessie, come on now. Stay awake with me now," Andrea ordered tersely.  
  
"My face hurts," Jessie said in a small voice.  
  
"I know, Jessie, I know," Andrea replied. "Just hang in there a bit longer. We're gonna airlift you back to Helena." She finished wrapping the ankle and looked around for something to put under it to keep it elevated.   
  
She spied a group of bags behind her and up under an overhang. "Stay awake, Jessie. That's an order. I'm going to go get something to prop your ankle up until the paramedics get here."  
  
"I want my dad," Jessie repeated, tears beginning to leak from the corners of her eyes and stream back into her hair.  
  
Andrea gave Jessie a reassuring pat before quickly fetching one of the bags the kids had carried from the plane and the plane's first aid kit. She propped Jessie's ankle up on the one bag and raided the other, hoping to find a chemical cold pack that she could use on Jessie's face.   
  
"Jessie, where's Jonny?"  
  
"Told him to run. Don't know," Jessie answered.   
  
"Did they say what they wanted, Jessie?"  
  
"Just Jonny..." Jessie said slowly. She was having a hard time staying focused on what Andrea was telling her.  
  
"Jessie, why did you tell Jonny to run?"  
  
"Because..." Jessie's voice trailed off for a moment before she continued. "Concussion - tree in the face when we landed. Can't see worth crap right now. Where's my dad? I want my dad."  
  
"He's coming, Jessie. Just hang in there," Andrea assured her.  
  
She looked over to see that Mikey was driving a piton into the rock face to attach a rope to. He already had one in place with a rope stretched taut about two feet above the surface of the rushing water. With this piton in place a second rope would be about eight feet above the surface, providing a quick and dry route across the water. Mikey finished the knots tying the rope to the piton as she approached him.  
  
"I need to borrow your radio. Things have gone from bad to worse," Andrea said.  
  
Mikey raised his eyebrows in surprise and handed over his radio as the first of the team began shimmying their way across the makeshift bridge. "The girl?"  
  
"She's hurt, but she'll be all right. No, we've got at least three men who ambushed them, took her out and went after Jonny. At this point, I have to assume they have him in their custody."  
  
Mikey whistled and handed the radio over to her without further comment, keeping an eye on his teammate who was about halfway across.  
  
Andrea keyed up the radio and said, "Rich, this is Andrea. Come in."


	7. Chapter 7 Ponchita's Down & Jonny's Gone

  
  
Race was taking a drink from his water bottle when Rich's radio went off. It was Charlie letting them know they'd reached the site. He listened with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when Charlie reported that Jonny was nowhere in site and Jessie was down. He wanted to grab the radio from Rich's hands and start demanding answers, but swallowed back his temper for the moment. He would wait for some answers before doing anything.  
  
Benton noticed his absolute stillness and questioned, "What is it?"  
  
"Charlie's team has reached the kids' position but there's no sign of Jonny."  
  
"Surely he didn't go far. Jonny knows we're looking for him," Benton tried to reason.  
  
Race knew that Benton was wrong. The hairs sticking up on the back of his neck told him that.  
  
"There's more, isn't there?" Benton asked shrewdly.  
  
Race had to give the Doc points for being perceptive when it really counted. "Jessie's down and not moving."  
  
"Oh no!" Benton's eyes went wide with worry.  
  
The Doc considered Jessie to be as much his daughter as Hadji and Jonny were his sons. That meant a lot to Race - having Jessie so accepted by the Doc had made his decision to stay with the Quests that much easier. He hoped against hope, trying to ignore the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, that the kids were all right.  
  
Noticing Benton standing tensely beside him, he commented, "Just watch - Jonny got impatient waiting for us to get here and started hiking back to the highway."  
  
"That's it exactly, Race," Benton answered with a tight smile. "I don't know where he gets this impulsive streak from."  
  
Race laughed humorlessly. Impulsive was just who Jonny was. He may have gotten it from his mother, Rachel Quest, but Race had never had the honor of meeting her. If she had lived, Race seriously doubted he would have ever met the Quests.  
  
Then, the radio keyed up again and this time, it was Andrea, not Charlie who was updating them.  
  
"Rich, this is Andrea. Come in." Rich answered, his face registering surprise.  
  
_Andrea was making the report? Oh God, what was wrong? Who was hurt? Jessie? Jonny? _Race thought to himself. He didn't want either one to be hurt, but he hoped above all it wasn't Jessie.  
  
"Andrea? What's up? This is Rich." Rich answered and looked over to Race who was watching him  
  
"We've got a situation here, over." Andrea began.  
  
"What's your status? Over." Rich asked.  
  
"...The kids were ambushed by at least three men…" Race listened to Andrea report.  
  
Damn it all to hell and back! He knew it! Ever since their beacons had gone off yesterday, he had _known_ that the plane crash was not weather induced. He was full of questions for Andrea: Did she just say three men ambushed them? Why hadn't they taken Jessie too? Did Jessie get a good look at them?  
  
"...medevaced out of here. She needs to get to a hospital faster than we can haul her off the mountain and then drive her back in to Helena. Over."  
  
Race felt the ground fall out from under his feet when Andrea said medevac. His Ponchita was down? He needed to go to her now, but… Jonny. Where was Jonny in all this? It wasn't like Jonny to abandon Jessie if she were hurt. He needed to know where Jonny was and now.  
  
"Jessie said three men were after Jonny. She told him to run and hide while she tried to hold them off enough for him to find a spot to hide. Over."  
  
Race kept quiet as he watched Rich talk to Andrea. He had a million questions running through his mind that he wanted to ask, but he would wait for Andrea to finish her report before he made his decision. He kept hoping that Jonny would be okay, but things were not looking up if Jonny was not at Jessie's side.  
  
It took but a moment for Rich to answer, "What happened, Andrea? Over."  
  
"Jessie said three men were after Jonny. She told him to run and hide while she tried to hold them off enough for him to find a spot to hide. Over."  
  
"Where's Jonny now? Over."  
  
"Unknown. Jessie said he has a concussion and limited vision. He got a tree in the face when they landed, that's why she told him to run. Over." Race's stomach tightened. His fears had been confirmed. Jonny was missing and injured to boot. This was not how he had wanted things to play out here.  
  
"How bad is Jessie? Over." Rich asked.  
  
"Her right ankle is a mess - torn ligaments is my guess and a concussion. She took a hard blow to her right cheek, it look like. She keeps asking for Race. Over." Andrea sighed.  
  
Race knew it just wasn't easy having to be the bearer of bad news.  
  
"Copy that. Andrea, are you at the location Hadji plotted earlier? Over." Rich asked a moment's pause.  
  
"Roger that, Rich. Jessie's exactly where Hadji plotted them to be. Over."  
  
"Copy that, I'll have my search teams on this side spread out and start looking for him. Coordinate with Charlie for his team to spread out and start searching from your location. Over."  
  
"I copy that Rich. Over," Andrea said on a sigh.  
  
Race's stomach dropped to his feet. Jessie was hurt and Jonny was missing. His heart clenched when Andrea said that Jessie was asking for him. He wanted to go to her, but his duty was to head up the search for Jonny...  
  
"Go, Race," Benton urged.  
  
"We'll get things rolling here," Eriksson put in.  
  
Race paused, torn. Which child to go to?  
  
"Go, Race. Jessie needs you more right now," Benton said.  
  
As usual, Benton was right. Jessie needed him now.  
  
"Thanks, Doc. I'll let you know how Jessie is," he answered and turned to Rich who seemed to have no doubts about him going to be with Jessie. "How far are we from their location?"  
  
"We're still about three and a half miles out." Rich answered after signing off with the police dispatcher in Helena. The helicopter team would be en route within fifteen minutes and then it would be about thirty minutes after that before they arrived on scene.  
  
"How good of a runner are you?" Race asked.  
  
"I can run. Not set any speed records, but I can hold my own," Rich answered.  
  
"Let's go. My daughter needs me and I need you to show me the way," Race said tersely.  
  
"Right," Rich said and nodded to Eriksson whom he knew would get the search operation organized.

* * *

"Copy that, Rich, see you soon. Andrea out." Andrea handed the radio back to Mikey.  
  
"I take it you're going to be staying and working with the search teams?" Mikey asked, keeping an eye on Hadji who was beginning to make his way across the water.  
  
"Yeah. I'm sure Doctor Quest will want to stay up here to look for his son and Race should go with Jessie. To hell with his job right now."  
  
"What is his job?" Mikey asked, unaware of the family dynamics.  
  
"He's Jonny's bodyguard," Andrea answered as Hadji finally made it across the water.  
  
"Yes, Race has been with the Quests since Jonny was six," Hadji stated, hopping down from the rope agilely.  
  
Mikey's eyes widened for a moment as he took in that information, "He's _Jonny's_ bodyguard, not Doctor Quest's?"  
  
"Yes, Doctor Quest wanted to ensure Jonny was protected after the death of his wife." Hadji supplied.  
  
"You folks sure live interesting lives."  
  
"Tell me about it," Andrea answered dryly and turned to Hadji, "Come on, I need you to stay with Jessie until Race or the paramedics get here."  
  
"Where's Jonny?"  
  
"That remains to be seen. I'm going to stay here and help get the search organized for him," Andrea said as they quickly moved back to Jessie's side.  
  
"How's Jessie?"  
  
"Woozy, but she'll be okay with some recovery time." Andrea said. She knelt back down at Jessie's side and said, "Jessie? Hadji's here."  
  
Hadji was skilled at hiding his dismay when he got a good look at Jessie's face. Andrea had to give him points for that. He knelt down next to her and picked up Jessie's hand as she struggled to focus in on him.  
  
"Ha-dji?" Jessie asked in a thin voice.  
  
"Honestly, Jessie. Were you trying to get me home early just so you could get into the lighthouse and see what I've been working on?" Hadji teased her.  
  
"Funny, Hadj, funny..." Jessie said and asked a moment later, "Where's my dad? Why isn't he here?"  
  
"He's coming, Jessie. You know that Race would never stay away if you're hurt," Hadji soothed her.  
  
"Keep her talking, but keep her still, I'll be back in a few minutes," Andrea said, getting up from her kneeling position and putting a hand on Hadji's shoulder.  
  
"Right," Hadji acknowledged.

* * *

Three and a half miles covered in just over twenty-two minutes on uneven terrain at over a mile in altitude and in hiking boots. That spoke to Race that Rich could more than 'hold his own.'  
  
The first thing Race noticed when they arrived on scene was Hadji kneeling at Jessie's side. Then, his eagle-eyed gaze took in the ropes across the water and the cluster of searchers by them, listening to Charlie and Andrea explain the new situation.  
  
It tore his heart out to hear Jessie ask Hadji, "Where's my dad?"  
  
Hadji spotted him and said, "He's here now, Jessie."  
  
"I'm here, Ponchita," Race said, moving to kneel down at her side.  
  
Tears began to run back into her hair as she said, "I'm sorry, Daddy."  
  
"Shhh now, Jessie. It's all right. You have nothing to be sorry about."  
  
"But, we crashed the jet..."  
  
"Oh, Jessie honey," Race didn't know whether to cry or laugh at his daughter's worry. "It wasn't your fault. I don't know for certain why you two went down, but I know that it wasn't your fault."  
  
He wiped the tears away, wondering how long it would be before the helicopter crew arrived.  
  
"Where's Jonny?" she asked next. "You have to find him."  
  
"We're working on that, Ponchita," Race assured her.  
  
"No, you don't understand. They were after _him_. Not me. Not us. Just _him_," Jessie said, trying to get her elbows underneath her in order to sit up.  
  
"Whoa there, darlin'," Race said, gently restraining her. "You're not going anywhere except to the hospital."  
  
"But - Jonny -" Jessie protested as she sank back to the ground.  
  
"I'm afraid Race is right, Jessie," Hadji put in. "You are hurt and in no condition to go after Jonny."  
  
"You have to find him. They were after _him_."  
  
"We know, honey, we know. The search teams are regrouping now to look for him." Race assured his daughter. His mind was racing in twenty different directions. Why were they only after Jonny? Who had grabbed him and why? Where was the helicopter at? How could he tell Estella that Jessie was hurt? How were they going to find Jonny now?  
  
The searchers' briefing broke up and Andrea, accompanied by Rich, headed back over their way. "I just wanted to let you know - the helicopter is en route. They just radioed Rich a second ago and they should be here anytime now."  
  
"Thanks, Andrea," Race answered.  
  
"Remember - they can't come closer than a couple of miles down river from here because of the wind sheer," Rich reminded them.  
  
"I'll help get Jessie to where the medics can land and then I'm staying to help with the search for Jonny. I don't know what we'll find, but we have to start somewhere," she continued with a shrug. "I figure I'll be back at the hotel after sundown. We won't be able to continue searching for him once we lose the light."  
  
Race nodded and again, wondered just who had taken Jonny and why. It couldn't happen soon enough. He needed his family reassembled safely under one roof again.  
  
"Let's get Jessie to the landing point for the helicopter since they're on their way," Andrea suggested.  
  
"Right," Race answered with a sigh. He looked down at his daughter and said, "Hang on, Ponchita. We'll do all the work here."  
  
"Okay, Daddy," Jessie answered.  
  
Race felt his heart clench again. She hadn't called him 'Daddy' since she was about twelve and here she had called him that twice since he'd been here. He shoved the violent urge to hurt the men who'd dared to lay a hand on his daughter back. It wouldn't do him any good here right now and he still didn't know where Jonny was.  
  
Rich shrugged out of his oversized backpack and set it down on the ground to pull out the collapsible stretcher. It took but moments until he had it assembled on the ground next to Jessie.  
  
"On the count of three," he said after he had moved to Jessie's shoulders, looking to Andrea who had positioned herself at Jessie's ankles.  
  
"Right. On three," Andrea answered and began the count, "One, two, three."  
  
The movement onto the stretcher had Jessie hissing in pain as her ankle was jarred when Andrea set her down.  
  
"Are you all right, Jessie?" Hadji questioned worriedly.  
  
"Of all the times to get hurt..." Jessie said, wiping away the tears of pain that escaped after Andrea had accidentally jarred her wrecked ankle.  
  
"You'll be all right, Ponchita," Race said, trying to assure himself more than her.  
  
"Let's get moving. We have a couple of miles to cover before we can get to a good spot for the chopper," Rich said, moving to take up position by Jessie's left foot after he and Andrea had quickly strapped her in to keep her from moving during the hike.  
  
Andrea stayed at Jessie's right side and said, "Race and Hadji, you take hold back there. Again, on three, lift."  
  
"Right," Hadji and Race answered almost in unison.  
  
Andrea did the count and on the count of three, the four of them lifted the portable stretcher and began the hike to where they would meet the chopper.  
  
It wasn't soon enough that Race could see the medical helicopter appear in the distance away from the cliffs and its dangerous wind sheer. He watched as it hovered steadily and spotted their location first before it descended to the ground. When the medic hopped out and ran to them, Andrea filled him in on Jessie's condition while the medic, her and Race quickly positioned Jessie on the backboard and then transferred into the gurney.  
  
"Will you be coming with your daughter, sir?" the medic asked Race as they carefully picked up the gurney with Hadji and Andrea taking up position on the sides.  
  
"Damn straight," Race answered, feeling a helpless rage at the sight of his wounded daughter strapped to the backboard.  
  
"All right then, sir. What we'll do is put your daughter in first, then you and I will climb in together," the medic explained, busy keeping one eye on Jessie and the other on the fast rotating blades. "Be sure to keep your head down when we approach the chopper, sir."  
  
"I know, I know," Race grumbled  
  
"Sir?" the medic asked, confused. He paused in the act of securing Jessie to the gurney.  
  
"Son, I've probably jumped out of more planes and choppers longer than you've been alive," Race said, fixing the young medic with a steady look.  
  
The medic met Race's gaze with a raised eyebrow and asked, "What branch? Rangers or Seals?"  
  
"Seals," was the brief answer as Race looked forward again.  
  
The medic nodded and answered, "Y'all have done some damn fine work in the past. My unit just rotated out of Iraq."  
  
It took them too long to Race's worried mind to finally move Jessie to the chopper, but they made it without jostling Jessie too much who kept her eyes closed the entire time as if to ward off the nausea that was an all too common side-effect of a concussion.  
  
The rear door of the helicopter opened and the medic's partner worked to slowly pull Jessie into the helicopter. The medic shut and secured the door and then opened the side door, motioning for Race to get in ahead of him.  
  
As Andrea and Hadji watched on, the helicopter swiftly rose up and turned to head back to Helena.  
  
Once they were inside, the medic began asking Race about Jessie's medical history.  
  
"Can you tell me Mr. Bannon does your daughter have any drug allergies?" the lead medic asked Race over the headphones he had Race put on.  
  
"No..." was the answer.

* * *

Sounds seeped into his unconscious mind first, and then, the uncomfortable feeling of pressure on his ear drums. His brain was telling him to yawn to relieve the pressure that was beginning to hurt. But, even as he obeyed the commands his brain was telling him, he wondered where he was. He felt oddly disconnected from the conscious world and wondered, in an abstract way, why. It was finally with effort that he managed to open his eyes.  
  
He was staring out an airplane window, he figured out, still puzzled by why his vision was so blurry. He tried to remember where he was going, but figured Race would tell him when they landed where they were at. The droning of the plane engines pulled him back to sleep before he could process the thought about why the plane wasn't like any of the Quest jets he had ever ridden in before.  
  
He woke again to the feeling of uncomfortable pressure on his eardrums. This time, when he opened his eyes, he found that his sight still blurry and when he went to rub the sleep for them, he found the swelling. His memory started to clear up, but unfortunately, he was still mostly blind and captured by bad guys. _What a wonderful way to start the summer, _he thought silently. He blinked several times and yawned again to relieve the pressure on his ears.  
  
"The kid's waking up again," one of the goons said.  
  
"Make sure his hands are secured, we're getting ready to land in a few minutes," was the call from the cockpit of the dusty and stale smelling jet.  
  
"Gotcha boss," answered the good with streaked hair. He undid his seatbelt and got up from his seat. He pulled out a set of zip ties and quickly grabbed Jonny's hands. With efficient movements, he looped one around his wrists and pulled it snug. He took the other one and secured Jonny's wrists to the arm rest. This was all done before Jonny could get his thoughts together enough to protest. Which just told him later on when he could think clearer, that he still was suffering from the concussion.  
  
"There, that should hold you for a few minutes, kid," streaked hair said.  
  
Jonny just dropped his head back against the headrest and couldn't stop the sneezing fit that hit when the dust cloud from the seat surrounded him. All it did was to make his eyes tear up further and bring back the throbbing pounding of his headache. What a way to start summer vacation... He wondered where they were landing at and how long they had been in the air.  
  
"So, where are you taking me?" Jonny asked when he could talk again.  
  
"Underground," was the only answer he got.  
  
"Oh great," Jonny muttered, wondering how Hadji and his dad were going to be able to track him now if he was underground. He was going to have to get away from the bad guys on his own and find out where he was in order to get help. Were they still in the US? He felt and heard and the engines change pitch as the plane continued to drop altitude and then the flaps slid down to slow their airspeed even more.  
  
Moments later, the landing gear was down and then they were powering up and making the final approach. It wasn't until the plane had taxied into a hangar after landing, that the plane came to a stop. Two men emerged from the small cockpit and flannel shirt said to streaked hair, "Hang tight while we get the gear transferred then hobble and blindfold him before you bring him out."  
  
"Sure, Chief," streaked hair agreed.  
  
Chief turned to the one wearing a ball cap and said, "Come on, Smitty. You can help carry gear."  
  
"Yes, Chief," Smitty answered, getting up from his seat.  
  
Chief turned and even with his blurred vision, Jonny could see the man heavily limping, left the plane. He thought that Jessie must have gotten the man good when trying to give Jonny a head start to get away from them. He wisely kept that thought to himself as he wondered what had happened to Jessie. He could only hope she was all right.  
  
Outside, Jonny could here the sounds of stuff being transferred and then the sounds of a hatch on the plane closing, followed by one on the vehicle that was in the hangar.  
  
Obviously, that was the signal that streaked hair to get up and take out more zip-ties and a dark bandana clearly meant to be used as a blindfold. "Don't give me any trouble now, kid."  
  
Jonny just said, "I don't even know where I'm at or where to go for help."  
  
Streaked hair just snorted as he cut the zip-tie that bound Jonny to the arm rest and grabbed his wrists. He took one of the zip-ties and made it into a loop, then took the other and looped it around Jonny's thigh, then took the secondary loop he put around Jonny's wrists and put one end of the third tie through that before pulling the zip-tie snug. Jonny was effectively hobbled. He couldn't stand up straight and his wrists were tied to his leg. With the blindfold in place tied just a little too tight around his swollen eyes, he was now blind as well.  
  
"You won't be needing this. We don't want your friends to be able to find you," streaked hair said and before Jonny could react, took his knife and slid it under the band of his watch, cutting it away from his wrist.  
  
Jonny tried to keep his face from showing any emotion. _Damn, they 'd guessed about his watch!_ He really worried now where these goons were going to take him and why they had grabbed just him and not Jessie. Jessie would have done anything to keep them from taking him, so what had they done to stop her? Was she lying there, on the mountain, unconscious? Bleeding? Dead? He shied away from that idea, his stomach burning at the possibilities. He knew his dad and Race would find her, but he still worried about her.  
  
Smitty stuck his head back in the door and said, "Bring the kid out now."  
  
"Right," streaked hair answered. He pulled Jonny to his feet, having to steady him when he almost toppled over.  
  
Jonny weaved on his feet, fighting for balance and to keep the nausea back at the sudden movement- all the wonderful side effects of a concussion. It didn't help that he was hobbled and couldn't use his hands to grab onto anything to keep from falling over. Being too busy trying to keep from getting sick or passing out again, kept him from making any of his usual smart ass remarks.  
  
Streaked hair half dragged, half-supported him up the aisle of the plane and out to the vehicle.  
  
Jonny could feel the heat and humidity hit him in the face as soon as he got to the entrance of the plane. It was like trying to dry off with a wet towel - you didn't really get dry and were left feeling clammy. He stumbled down the steps and would have gone sprawling on his face if someone hadn't grabbed his elbow at the last minute and jerked him back. He barely kept from growling at the goons holding him, but the sudden movement set his stomach roiling again. It left him fighting to keep the nausea back.  
  
His face must have shown how close he was to getting sick for Chief spoke up, "Take it easy. We don't want him puking all over the place here."  
  
"Yes, Chief," streaked hair answered an almost pouting tone. With a still none too gentle hand, he helped Jonny into a vehicle.  
  
From the height of it, Jonny could feel it was an SUV of some sort. He only wished that he wasn't hobbled or blindfolded so he could see where he was, what type of vehicle he was being shoved into. Most of all, he wished they hadn't taken his watch. This was going to make it all the harder for his family to find him. Man, was Race gonna be mad, was the stray thought he had as he listened to the conversation outside the vehicle.  
  
"Here's his watch. I don't know about you, but considering who we're dealing with, it's a good idea not to let him keep it," streaked hair told the group leader.  
  
"Right. We'll get rid of this along the way," the one called "Chief" answered.  
  
Then, Jonny heard something hit the cement floor and then the sound of that something being crushed. There went the watch, he thought with a depressed sigh.  
  
"That should take care of it, but just in case, we'll be sure to find it a new home off a bridge before we reach the storage facility," Chief answered.  
  
"Are we heading there now?" another voice asked. This, Jonny thought, had to be the one that had caught him. Probably the pilot, since he was the only one Jonny hadn't heard speak yet, since they'd landed.  
  
"Yeah. We need to get moving and get rid of this watch before we got to the storage facility," Chief answered.  
  
"That would be good. We don't want to lead them directly to us," Pilot answered with a snort.  
  
"Let's go," Chief answered and moments later, Jonny found himself between two of the goons and heard the front doors of the vehicle close after that.  
  
He could hear someone let out a hissing breath as he settled into the front seat and clicked his seatbelt into place. He kept his face blank, but inwardly smiled. Jessie must have gotten him good. Too bad that it didn't work. He hoped again that she would be okay.  
  
The vehicle pulled out of the hangar, and then the goon on Jonny's right hopped out of the vehicle to pull shut the hangar door before hopping back in. Then they were en route, to where, Jonny had no idea.


	8. Chapter 8 Waiting Room Purgatory

_A/N: Just a quick word here - This chapter is split into 2 sections for length. The second part will hopefully follow next weekend when my beta & I manage to cooerce our schedules into getting this done before I fall asleep at the keyboard! :-p _

_Oh, and just in case anyone's looking - Disclaimer: They aren't mine! CN killed the series and has buried it in their vaults. :( --LN_

_

* * *

_

The medevac helicopter landed on the roof of St. Peter's Hospital in Helena, and the medical personnel quickly rushed Jessie down to the ER. Race paced the waiting room impatiently after filling out the admittance forms for Jessie, waiting for her to come back from being rushed off to radiology.  
  
When they arrived, the medical staff had swarmed over her as he'd worriedly looked on, checking out the abrasions on her face and hands before they sent her over to x-rays to check for fractures. The films were taken out of the machine to be developed almost before they were taking her down to get an MRI again, to see what internal damage she had suffered from the people who had grabbed Jonny. He was ever so grateful that when questioned in the helicopter en route to the hospital if she had been sexually assaulted, Jessie had vehemently said no. The goons had only been interested in Jonny, not her.  
  
Given the state that Jessie had been found in, Race tended to believe that. They people who had grabbed Jonny had been working under a deadline, knowing that the search crews would be looking for Jonny and Jessie. But again, it raised the question, why had they only taken Jonny? Why didn't they grab Jessie too?  
  
He hadn't heard anything from the search groups up on the mountain, and so he could only presume that they hadn't found Jonny yet. No news, at this point, was definitely bad news. He knew that Benton or someone would call and let him know right away if they had found Jonny. He pulled out his cell phone and stared at it, wondering if he should call Phil Corvin yet and let him know what the situation was.  
  
Just as he did that, the ER doctor in charge of Jessie walked out and said, "Mr. Bannon?"  
  
Race clipped his phone back to his belt and turned to face the doctor, a young woman who couldn't have been much older than Jessie herself. "Yes?"  
  
"I'm Doctor Martina Quinn, the attending ER doctor."  
  
"How's Jessie doing, Doctor?" Race asked, wondering if, indeed, this young person in front of him was old enough to have graduated med school.  
  
"If you'll come with me, Mr. Bannon, I can show you her x-ray and MRI results while they get Jessie settled into her room," the doctor said holding Jessie's chart in her arms.  
  
"Sure thing, Doc," Race said, following the physician.  
  
She led him through the ER where one of the nurses was putting the finishing touches on a cast on a young boy's right arm as his mother anxiously looked on.  
  
"Skateboarding accident," the young doctor explained. "Fell the wrong way and ended up with a hairline fracture of his ulna - one of the bones in his forearm."  
  
"How many patients do you handle at a time?" Race asked.  
  
"Normally, about two or three. When we get backlogged, each doctor on duty can be handling about seven patients at one time. This is normally a twelve bed facility, the ER that is, but in a pinch, we can go up to twenty-one," the young doctor answered. "I did my ER rotation at Barnes-Jewish in downtown St. Louis. While not as bad as somewhere like say, Cook County in Chicago, we were kept on our toes."  
  
She turned and led Race to a small alcove with a light board on one wall and a computer terminal with an LCD screen sitting on a desk next to it. As she turned the corner, the nurse handed her a maroon binder and a set of x-rays in a tan folder. The x-rays were put up on the light board and the doctor logged into the computer terminal and with a few clicks of the mouse another log on screen, and then finally entering a six digit number, she brought up the MRI results.  
  
The doctor carefully took him over the x-rays first, "We'll start with your daughter's x-rays and then we'll discuss her MRI results."  
  
"How bad are we talking here, Doc?" Race couldn't keep his worry out of his voice.  
  
The young physician smiled, "Your daughter will heal in time, Mr. Bannon. Remarkably, she sustained no injuries from the crash yesterday. From what she told me during the initial exam in the ER, she got off very lightly in the attack this morning."  
  
"I don't consider what happened light, doctor," Race answered, his irritation breaking through the tight control he'd managed to keep on his emotions.  
  
"I wouldn't either, but while she is injured, it's nothing life threatening," the doctor was quick to point out. "Your daughter suffered a concussion. X-rays and an MRI revealed no sign of skull fracture, but she did suffer a hairline fracture of her right cheekbone. As you can see here," the doctor pointed out what would have appeared to just be a scratch or a possible flaw in the film to the untrained eye.  
  
"So, what does that mean?" Race asked, caught between running his hands through his hair or clenching them into fists.  
  
"It's a hairline fracture and should heal without intervention. But it does mean no strenuous activities for the next six weeks while it heals," the doctor explained.  
  
"How about her ankle?" Race asked next.  
  
"Her x-rays were clear of any fractures, so she won't have to deal with a hard plaster cast," the doctor answered promptly, showing him the x-rays of Jessie's ankle.  
  
"I sense a but here, Doc," Race said knowingly.  
  
"Yes, there is a but here, Mr. Bannon. Here's where we move to the MRI results, since x-rays tend not to show tissue damage and an MRI will."  
  
"Right, that much I know," Race answered, his knowledge having come from personal experience. Your luck could only hold out so long when doing black ops work and when it did run out, you normally found yourself facing a squad of doctors if you made it back to the right side of the line.  
  
The young doctor moved back over to the computer terminal and pulled up the MRI of Jessie's ankle first. "Now you can begin to see the damage to her ankle. There is no fracture to any of the bones in the ankle joint, but the primary ligaments were torn here -" the doctor pointed to a blue streak on the screen with the mouse, "-and then here."  
  
Another click of the mouse brought up a different view of the ankle and again more blue streaks where it should be green for healthy tissue. "This is what is called a Grade III sprain, Mr. Bannon."  
  
Race winced and asked, "Does this mean surgery or just staying off it and physical therapy?"  
  
"With the tendons being torn the way they are, unfortunately it requires surgery," was the prompt answer.  
  
"So, what kind of recovery time are we talking about here?"  
  
"Six weeks in a walking cast, or brace. After about three weeks, she'll start rehab," Dr. Quinn said. "I did my surgical rotation in the orthopedic unit of Wash U in St. Louis and my professor there spoke highly of the sports medicine clinic here in Helena, when I mentioned that I was planning on moving back to Helena, after completing my residency. He said that Doctors Kelpas and Sukin were some of his best students."  
  
"Have you consulted with them already?"  
  
The physician nodded, "I spoke with them briefly and they are going to review the MRI results and will be over to talk with you and your in depth about the surgery and the rehab process."  
  
"We'll be heading back to Maine in a few days, will that provide any problems?" Race questioned next. He wanted Jessie home on the compound in Maine, which was a lot more secure than this hospital here in Montana. He wanted her safe so he could look for Jonny.  
  
"I don't see any problems with it. Your daughter's head MRI was clear - showing no bleeding," the doctor answered with a few clicks of the mouse, brought up the head MRI scans of Jessie's head.  
  
Race looked at them for a moment. Having been around Benton Quest for too many years now, he had learned more about medical technology than he ever would have thought possible. The doctor hadn't lied - the MRI images looked clear of any bleeding where there shouldn't be. His ponchita would just have a horrible headache for the next couple of days and be nauseated and sleepy on top of that.  
  
"Your daughter will be quite sore for a few days, but she'll be fine. She's in excellent health and I don't expect her to have any complications from the surgery."  
  
"Right," Race nodded. He'd barely had a chance to talk with her since the crash, and he wanted to know what had happened. No, he corrected himself, he needed to know what happened.  
  
"I do believe that the authorities were waiting to get a statement from your daughter on what happened, Mr. Bannon. I presume you want to be there for the interview?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am I would," Race smiled briefly, again struck by how young the doctor looked. While she hadn't bragged about her credentials, she had made it clear that she was qualified to treat his daughter.  
  
"All right then. I'll lead you over to her room. We're not that big a facility, so your daughter's room is right around the corner," the doctor answered.  
  
The ER physician first logged out of the radiology network, then out of the terminal altogether. She stood up and turned off the light board and carefully put the x-rays back into their folder before leading him out of the ER and over to the medical floor of the hospital.

* * *

Up in the mountains, the search crews had found the plane and had taken pictures of everything before finding and removing the black boxes. Those were packaged and prepared for transport down the mountain while a discussion ensued on how to get the plane back to Helena. It was finally decided that the plane would be lifted by helicopter to the pull off point that the one search crew had used to get up to the plane's location, and then driven back down into Helena, to be examined in detail by the NTSB/FAA team. Once that was decided, transport had to be arranged and it took until almost sunset to get the plane lifted and moved down to the waiting transport trucks.  
  
Just a few miles away, the search teams had spread out to look for Jonny. It hadn't taken one of the trackers long to follow Jonny's trail to where he had hidden long enough to hurriedly carve his initials on a tree.  
  
"Charlie! Rich!" the tracker called out over the radio. "This is Tom. I've got something!"  
  
"Where are you at, Tom?" Charlie's voice came back over the radio first.  
  
"I'm about maybe, a mile north northeast from the location where we found the girl," the tracker answered.  
  
"Got it. I'm heading your way now," Charlie answered. He called out to Andrea who was following close behind him, "We've got something."  
  
Andrea caught up to him and asked, "Jonny?"  
  
"Signs of him, I'd say," Charlie answered, leading her along the rocky ground.  
  
It seemed to take too long for the experienced search team leader to lead her to the site where Tom had called from.  
  
"What have you got, Tom?" Charlie asked.  
  
Andrea could hear two more sets of footsteps rapidly approaching and knew that they had to be Rich and Dr. Quest.  
  
"Looks like the kid left his mark all right," Tom answered, pushing aside the shrubbery and showing them the hastily scratched initials in the tree trunk.  
  
"JQ," Andrea remarked, running her fingers over the still fresh looking scratches. "That would be Jonny all right."  
  
"He was here?" Benton asked, sounding a little out of breath.  
  
"Yes, Dr. Quest. He made it this far at least," Andrea answered, straightening up to show him the marks Jonny had made.  
  
"Do you know where the trail leads from here?" Rich asked.  
  
"It continues to head to the north - north-east from here," was the answer, the tracker was already looking in that direction. "But, there are marks that someone was hot on his heels."  
  
"Yeah, we know there were at least three men after Jonny," Rich remarked.  
  
"Let me see where else the boy's tracks lead," the tracker said, getting up and following Jonny's tracks.  
  
Tom moved forward in the direction he had indicated earlier, studying the disturbance of the brush and faint tracks that had been left by Jonny. Rich and Charlie took the more obvious tracks of Jonny's pursuer.  
  
Another half mile and they had obvious signs of a scuffle having taken place in the disturbed brush and gravel. No signs of blood, but Jonny's tracks ended there.  
  
"Look at this, Rich," said Charlie, who was a little bit further away. "Now we've got more tracks here, and one of 'em is heavier now."  
  
"Like one them was carrying something heavy, I'd say," the tracker commented, studying them.  
  
"Jonny," Rich said with a small frown.  
  
Andrea well understood that frown. She had hoped that they would find the kids that morning safe and sound after what had already been a harrowing experience for them, but those hopes had evaporated when they had found Jessie. Her own anxiety levels had ratcheted up with Jessie's statement about the ambush, she couldn't even begin to imagine how Benton was holding it together.  
  
Rich got on the radio and redirected the search teams to spread out on their flanks to look for any other evidence that the goons who grabbed Jonny might have left.  
  
They followed the tracks for a couple of miles to what was a cleared campground and nothing was left there to give them any clue on the kidnappers' identities. It was at the cleaned campsite the tracks changed on who was carrying Jonny. Tom, the tracker, noted it and continued to follow the tracks which then led to a set of tire tracks on a logging road about two miles from the campsite that finally dumped them back out to the state highway not more than a half mile from where Benton and Race had begun their hike to look for the kids and downed aircraft.  
  
"Well, damn," Andrea sighed, disgustedly. It would just be too easy to find the men who took Jonny before they got back to the main road.  
  
It was Hadji with his quiet wisdom, when he caught up to them, who said, "You surely did not think it would be so easy, did you, Andrea?"  
  
"Not really, but I was kinda hoping..." the bodyguard answered, keeping an eye on her employer. Dr. Quest looked worn out and she couldn't blame him. It was now getting close to sunset and they had hiked close to twenty miles.  
  
"We all were, Andrea," Benton put in, rubbing a hand over his face. "We've been in this situation enough that I should be used to the bad guys, whoever they are this time, getting a large head start like this."  
  
There was another moment of silence as they all watched the flat bed truck go lumbering by with the wrecked plane strapped to its trailer.  
  
It was with a sigh that Benton said, "Come on, I think we need to head back to Helena, to try and track Jonny from there now."  
  
"I was just going to suggest that, Doctor Quest," suggested the FBI agent who had stuck like glue to Benton's side since they had begun the hike.  
  
"Andrea, Race didn't happen to leave you with a set of car keys, did he?" Benton asked.  
  
"He did indeed, Doctor Quest. Do you want me to drive us back to the city?" she answered, seeing the fatigue and worry that was wearing the scientist down. She shoved back her own fatigue to gather the energy to make the hour drive back to Helena.  
  
"I think perhaps, you need to drive, Andrea," Hadji suggested, also looking at Benton and seeing the worry and exhaustion that his adoptive father was doing a poor job of concealing as he stared unseeing at the road.  
  
"Yeah, I think I'd better," Andrea said, looking again to Benton.  
  
He was really worried now. He'd been concerned when he'd gotten word that the plane had gone down, but now... He was really worried, she decided as he tiredly ran a hand through his hair again. She wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all since they'd left Berlin. She straightened her shoulders and led the way to the Quest vehicle. That hot tub at the hotel was looking awfully good now, but first, time for some minor assurance.  
  
"We will find him, Doctor Quest. And I bet that Jonny will help us find him before you know it," Andrea assured him.  
  
Benton gave her a small, tight smile, "I'll take you up on that bet. If anything, Jonny is resourceful and excels at getting away from his captors." He straightened up and while he still looked tired, he had lost the almost beaten look he'd had before.  
  
With that small exchange, she had done her job, and her boss had found his balance again. Feeling somewhat renewed, she climbed behind the wheel to begin the trip back.

* * *

Jonny sat in the backseat of the SUV, wishing he could raise his arms to stretch. As it was, with his hands bound and tied to his left thigh, he was lucky just to be able to sit back in the seat. He didn't know where they were going, but he could feel the bright sun pouring in from the windshield, hitting him right in the face. All things considered at the moment, he was almost grateful for the blindfold, since it kept the sun out of his eyes. Blocking the sun helped with the monstrous headache but the tightness of the blindfold against his bruised face more than made up for it. This was so not how he wanted to start his summer vacation.  
  
After some time, the vehicle turned off onto a rough road and left Jonny wincing when they hit a particularly deep pothole.  
  
Another turn and they were off the paved road and onto what felt and sounded like a rutted gravel road, which set Jonny's head to throbbing even more painfully than before. Just when he thought he was going to be sick from the jostling, they pulled to a stop.  
  
He heard rustling from the front seat and then Chief said, "Here. Take this and throw it in the creek."  
  
"Sure thing, Chief," said the goon on Jonny's right. A moment later, the door opened and the goon hopped out of the car. Jonny could hear the small plunk as his watch hit the water and sank a moment after the goon had hopped out. Then the goon climbed back in the vehicle, shut the door before the driver turned the vehicle around, heading back the way they had come.  
  
As they traveled, Jonny could hear the occasional sounds of cars going by on either side. After awhile of going along at a steady pace, he felt the car slow considerably. He could hear the sounds of other cars slowing on either side, leading him to believe that they'd run into heavy traffic. Was it late enough to be rush hour? The SUV slowed to a complete stop, and he could hear the sounds of idling cars on both sides. It sure sounded like rush hour. The radio was off, so he had no idea which roads they might be traveling in which city. The only clue he had on their location was that it was somewhere hot, humid and it was late enough in the day to be in traffic. He needed to know where he was in order to figure out how to get home.  
  
Jonny could do nothing to free himself, because he was sure the goons were keeping an eye on him and it wasn't like he had his pocket knife in his pocket. He had stuffed it into his primary backpack before leaving his dorm in California the day before. Finally, they pulled off the interstate, then after navigating a set of turns and stoplights, they pulled to a stop. Jonny heard a window roll down then heard a set of clicking noises like buttons being punched, followed by a the clanking motion of a gate opening. The driver put the vehicle back in gear and drove a little bit further before making a turn and then pulling to a stop out of the sunlight.  
  
The goons got out of the vehicle and from the sounds of the doors opening and closing, they were inside a warehouse of some sort was the only thing Jonny could guess. Next the goon on Jonny's right pulled him out of the vehicle and Jonny stumbled for a minute before finding his unsteady balance. The sudden movement brought his nausea back full force again and it took a considerable amount of effort not to be sick. It was bad enough to be sick, but to be sick on an empty stomach hurt even more. He so didn't want to do that.  
  
"Remember what I said earlier," Chief said to the goon holding Jonny. "You get to clean it up if he gets sick."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," was the grumbled answer and Jonny felt himself being guided along none too gently away from the vehicle. His footsteps echoed loudly and he wished again that the annoying blindfold wasn't so tight on his eyes.  
  
They stopped and waited for something, then Jonny could hear the whirring sound of an elevator. It arrived with a muted dink instead of a ding and Jonny found himself being shoved forward. He seriously didn't think they would go to all this trouble just to kill him now, so he could only hope that they would give him something for his massive headache.  
  
"Do you think one of you guys might be able to give me some aspirin or something when we get to where we're going?" he hazarded to ask.  
  
The goon on his left snorted and said, "Yeah, right. Like we're gonna give you anything after what you pulled up in the mountains?"  
  
"Now, now," cautioned Chief. "We don't want to be too rude to our 'guest.'"  
  
Another snort from the goon on Jonny's left. So far, the only one who hadn't spoken much was the pilot. Which left Jonny wondering if didn't want to be identified or he just didn't have much to contribute to the conversation. This was so not how he wanted to start his summer vacation.  
  
The elevator finally stopped and again, Jonny was hustled forward down a cool hallway again where his footsteps echoed. Stumbling along, he could swear that the goons on either side of him were laughing at his discomfort. He didn't think he'd make it much further when at last they stopped. Jonny heard the sounds of a door being unlocked and then he was given a none too gentle shove forward. His balance was off, one foot caught the heel of the other and he went down, skidding forward on his knees on the hard floor. Then his momentum carried him forward and without being able to use his hands to stop himself, his face crashed into the concrete floor.  
  
_Oh, that hurt,_ he thought dazedly as he lay there stunned and winded.  
  
He was pulled back to his feet by someone else, "I don't believe our employer said to damage him." This from the pilot, Jonny noted. If he thought his head had hurt before now, it was throbbing even more. The man guided him over to a soft surface that squeaked slightly when he sat down.  
  
"All right you two, go unpack the car," Chief said with a note of impatience in his voice. Jonny thought he was indicating the two goons who'd been on either side of him since leaving the airport. Chief sighed then spoke again after the other two had left the room, "Take off his blindfold, but leave him bound for the moment. I need to provide our employer with evidence that we're doing what we're being paid for."  
  
"Gotcha," pilot answered, removing the blindfold.  
  
Jonny silently sighed in relief at having the blindfold removed. He blinked rapidly, but his eyes were tearing too badly for him to focus in on anything. The overhead fluorescent light hurt his swollen eyes and he decided just to keep them closed. He heard a click, then another click a moment later, followed by a third click.  
  
"There, that should be enough to show our employer to show we're 'working,'" Chief said, and Jonny could hear the sound of something being snapped shut. "You can cut the ties off him now before you lock him in. Those two should be back down with the gear now and you can give him some ibuprofen and water."  
  
"Gotcha," the pilot answered.  
  
Jonny heard the definite snick of a blade being locked open as the one called Chief walked away. He couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through him as he felt the cold knife blade slide next to his skin, releasing his wrists and then cutting off the tie on his thigh.  
  
Pilot explained his 'accommodations' to him, "You've got the cot but it's bolted to the floor. Bathroom is through the doorway on the right wall. Camera covers the whole room, but you can take a leak without being seen."  
  
"Any way you're going to tell me where I'm at?" Jonny asked, his usual sarcasm starting to make its return.  
  
"I'm not stupid, kid," the pilot snorted and moved back from Jonny.  
  
Jonny heard the snick as the blade was closed up. He flopped back on the cot, waiting for pilot to leave.  
  
But the pilot wasn't done with him yet, "The door is dead-bolted from the outside, no knob or keyhole on this side of the door. So, you might as well resign yourself to being our 'guest' for the time now."  
  
"Oh gee, thanks," Jonny answered, rubbing his chafed wrists. "Mind telling me why I'm your 'guest?'"  
  
"I can't and won't tell you, kid," was the answer.  
  
Jonny just shook his head, having heard the answer before.  
  
He heard the pilot walk out, the door shutting and locking behind him.  
  
Great, here he was captured yet again by goons, and they wouldn't even say why they'd captured him. He was going to be filmed 24/7, now and as far as he could tell, there was no way out of this room unless there was some way he could figure out how to unlock the door from inside the room. Oh well, the only thing he could do now was hope that they left him a wash cloth in the bathroom that he could wet down and put over his swollen and aching eyes. He got up and carefully made his way into the bathroom, fighting the dizziness that had returned when he'd crashed face first into the floor.  
  
His thoughts were running in a jumbled mess. How he was going to get out of this predicament? How were his dad and Race going to find him? Most importantly how was Jessie? He knew they had to have taken her out in order to get past her, but how badly was she hurt?  
  
Gah! This was so frustrating and he couldn't do a bloody thing right now because of his concussion. He gingerly washed the new scratches on his face, knowing he'd gained more bruises to add to his collection before taking the cool wash cloth with him back to the cot to lay down with it on his face. He had to bring the swelling down in order to be able to see and look for ways to escape. 


	9. Chapter 9 Transitory Times

Chapter 9 - Transitory Times

In the land rover en route to town, Estella Velasquez wondered again what had happened. She had been studying the soil strata for a new portion of the dig site that was turning up lots of information and hadn't heard her phone ring.

She had only noticed she had missed a call when she had returned to her tent after lunch to retrieve a trowel she'd forgotten. She had taken a moment to look at her cell phone. Her heart had plummeted to her feet at hearing Race's message that Jessie had been hurt.

She had ripped into Race pretty bad, but damn it, one of the reasons she had let Jessie live with him was that he could provide a more stable environment than living in a tent for months at a time when she was on a dig, or the unstable environment of any South American city where she would be a target for kidnappers because of her pale skin. They would figure her for the daughter of some rich Americano and would want some exorbitant ransom to further their 'political needs.' Hah, she snorted silently, more like terrorism. For the most part, her daughter tried to stay out of trouble. It just so happened that her ex-husband's employer's son, whom Race had been assigned to protect, was a trouble magnet and loved to rush into situations without thinking.

She checked her watch and saw that it was closing in on four pm local time. It was at least a thirty-minute drive from the dig site into the nearest village and if Larry was still there, it was going to be a miracle. She sincerely hoped for a miracle here now. From the village, it was about an hour and a half flight into Buenos Aires and she would need to be in the international terminal about two hours before flight time if she hoped to get on a plane back to the states tonight. It took strength of will, but she refrained from snapping at Jose to drive faster. Instead, she dug into her backpack and fished out her organizer. Impatiently, she looked up her airline information. Finding the number she wanted, she called the United Airlines office in Buenos Aires.

"Good afternoon and thank you for calling United Airlines, my name is Maria, how may I assist you today?" said a female voice in clear Spanish once Estella made it through the prompts to make a new reservation.

"Si..." Estella began the process of making her reservations to get to Montana as quickly as possible. The one small discount she was able to wrangle out of them was to claim family emergency and got her fair for just under $2000 US for a coach ticket. She gave them Race's email address as well as her own in order to send copies of the itinerary to, along with frequent flyer number followed by her frequent flyer credit card, confident that she had enough miles to upgrade to at least business class for the leg that would take her from Buenos Aires to Washington, DC. Finally, she had her reservation number and was told that she would have to pick up her tickets at the counter in Buenos Aires.

She sighed and thought of how many connections she was going to have to take to get to her daughter. She would leave Buenos Aires around 9:15 pm, fly into Washington DC, with a two hour layover, then DC to New York with a little over an hour there before flying onto Denver and waiting there again for just over an hour for the next leg that would take her Billings, Montana, and wait there for two and a half hours and change airlines there to a Northwest jet before finally getting into Helena sometime after seven tomorrow night. After almost twenty-four hours of traveling would she finally get to see her daughter.

"Doctor Velasquez?" Jose questioned.

"I'm just worried, Jose. This is going to be a long couple of days," Estella shook her head and wondered again why she just couldn't have accepted a university teaching position in the US? She would have been able to provide Jessie with a stable home - none of this gallivanting about the globe that her daughter was doing with the Quests and none of the dangers she had faced with them. She shook her head. Who was she kidding? She couldn't give up her field work - she wasn't interested in strictly classroom teaching, and it had been a wonderful opportunity for Jessie to live with the Quests and get to travel all over with them.

"I'm sure it will be okay, Professor," Jose said.

"By the time I finally get to Montana tomorrow, my daughter will be out of surgery. I hope they will let me visit with her," Estella said distractedly, trying to scribble notes in her PDA.

Jose laughed briefly, "I don't think the nurses would be able to stop you, Professor."

"Probably not, Jose. They just might be able to stop my ex-husband though," Estella answered with a small laugh.

Jose asked, "Your ex-husband?"

"Is terrified of nurses," Estella said, looking back down at her PDA and working on writing up notes for what her team was supposed to do while she was stateside.

"How long do you expect to be gone, Professor?" Jose questioned as the vehicle bumped over the rutted tracks that led them out of the jungle and to the small village on the edge of the jungle.

"I don't know. It seems that Jessie's been hurt and Jonny's been taken by unknown parties," Estella frowned and went back and corrected something she had just entered onto her PDA.

"Jonny?" Jose questioned, slowing down to cross the creaking bridge that would take them into the village.

"Jonny Quest. Race has been assigned to guard him since he was about six," Estella answered, continuing to jot notes down in her PDA. She was going to have to call Professor Gonzalez and see if he could help keep an eye on her grad students at the dig site. Too many details to work out and she didn't think she would have enough time before she left from Buenos Aires that night.

She looked up to see that the village was finally in sight. Shielding her eyes, she scanned to see if Larry's small plane was parked at the strip of cleared land that could barely be called a runway. She frowned when she didn't see it right away, but Jose had sharper eyes.

"Looks like he's just coming in to land, Professor," Jose said, spotting the plane coming into land.

Estella sighed in relief. Larry must have done a run to another village before coming Santo Christo today. "Good. Hopefully he'll be ready to head back out again right away."

"Professor, do you want me to contact Doctor Gonzalez to see if he can come out for a few days while we're here?" Jose asked, as he steered the car towards what passed for the town's airstrip.

"That would be a life-saver. Hopefully, Professor Vallez will be back from Santiago by then. You have a cell phone and can always call the university if you run into problems," Estella said, putting her PDA back in its case and stuffing it back into her bag.

"We'll be fine, Professor. You just worry about your daughter and come back when you can," Jose assured her.

They pulled up to a stop finally at the airstrip as Larry was powering down the engines. Estella was out of the vehicle and grabbing her backpack from her feet and then her larger carryall bag from the backseat of the four-wheel drive vehicle as soon as Jose turned off the engine and was charging across the sun-baked ground towards the plane.

Larry was unloading some light cargo from the plane to one of the villagers when Estella strode up to him.

"Larry, perfect timing. I need to head into Buenos Aires like yesterday. I have to catch a flight out to the states tonight and I can't miss it." Estella stated, shouldering her backpack and carryall sack.

"What's up?" the rangy American asked.

"Family emergency. My daughter's in the hospital," Estella said shortly.

"Well, you're in luck. I need to head into Buenos Aires to pick up supplies for the clinic in Azaros. Fresh bunch of 'missionaries' brought the flu with them."

Estella rolled her eyes. While she appreciated the fact that these people were trying to help out, she wished they wouldn't bring various illnesses with them.

"Wonderful," she sighed, caught between relief and frustration.

"Professor Velasquez?" Jose questioned, catching up to her. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, Jose. Go make the call to Professor Gonzalez and see if there's anything waiting at the post office for us," Estella said with a small smile for the grad student.

The grad student nodded and turned to go.

"Oh and Jose, thanks for driving me here," Estella said, truly grateful that he had put up with her ranting at Race and the world in general on the drive into the town.

The grad student turned and smiled, "It was no problem, Professor. You take care of your family first."

"Thank you, Jose," Estella said with a genuine smile. This was one grad student she didn't want to see go off to somewhere else. He was much too valuable to her when she went out on a dig.

"Not a problem, Professor Velasquez," Jose replied and headed back to the car.

"So, how many other stops do you have to make before you head into Buenos Aires?" Estella said, turning her attention back to Larry.

"This is it. I'll be done here shortly," Larry said, handing out another box to the villager from the plane's small cargo compartment. "Luis, do you know if there's anything going out for me today?"

"No, Senor Larry. There are no packages going out today," the villager replied in heavily accented English.

"Good. I've only got a handful more of things for you guys today," Larry said and disappeared into the small cargo hold and returned moments later with a handful of padded envelopes bearing logos of one of the international express freight companies. "And, this is it, Luis."

"Gracias, Senor Larry." Louis said with a small bow.

Larry unfolded his long frame from the small cargo hatch and waved to Estella, "Professor, you can go ahead and put your bags back here if you want."

"Thanks, Larry," Estella said, taking the oversized carryall bag off her shoulder and putting that in the cargo hold. "I'd better keep my backpack handy."

Larry shrugged and secured the cargo hold door shut. He nodded to Luis who took the packages and headed away from the plane. "Let's head to Buenos Aires then, Professor."

Estella grinned and headed for the co-pilot seat. She knew Larry would expect her to pull her weight if he was going to take her to Buenos Aires. She had learned a thing or two from Race over the years about piloting. She took the spare headset and put it on while Larry somehow managed to comfortably settle his tall body in the pilot's seat. He ran through an abbreviated pre-flight checklist with her and soon they were heading down the hard packed earth that served as a runway and then up in the air.

* * *

Chief took the elevator back to the surface level in order to contact their employer. He needed to let him know they had the 'cargo.'

Damn that wench for what she did to his knee. The hike back to their campsite and then from there to their car had been an exercise in pain management. He would have to rummage in his bags to see if he had an ace bandage he could use to stabilize the damaged knee until he could get to somewhere safe to have it looked at.

He punched up the number stored in the phone's memory and dialed. The line was picked up after just barely two rings.

"Hello. I presume you have an update for me?"

"Yes, sir," Chief answered. "We located the 'package' this morning and we're at the holding location."

"Did you have any problems with the retrieval?" Armani suit asked.

"Not too bad. His bodyguard put up a fight. She wasn't that much of a match," Chief shrugged.

"She?" Armani asked, catching onto that word. "Not he?"

"Yeah. Young gal. Couldn't have been that old," Chief said, shifting his weight uneasily.

"What did she look like?" Armani questioned sharply.

Chief could hear his employer sitting down and typing at his keyboard. He answered, "Young, long, red hair."

More tapping noises as Armani asked, "Did you get a name?"

Chief was silent for a moment and said, "Jess?"

Armani cursed, "Did you say Jess?"

"Yes, sir."

"Damn! That's Bannon's brat!" Armani cursed.

"Sir?"

"Bannon - the 'package's' guard. Ex-Navy Seal!" Armani exploded. "Did she see you?"

"Yes sir - she was guarding 'the package' when we arrived on scene."

"You didn't do anything stupid to her, did you?" Armani asked.

"She tried to keep us from taking custody of the 'package' when we arrived on the scene."

"I repeat, you didn't do anything stupid to her, did you?" Armani asked in a chilled voice.

Chief knew what his employer meant and answered, "No, sir. We didn't do anything like that. I wouldn't let anyone on my team if they did that for one - that just brings in way too many complications and two, that just wasn't an option for anything like that with the search teams not that far behind us."

"Then how did you get the 'package' away from her?" Armani asked.

"The 'package' tried to get away while the girl held us off," Chief answered.

"And, then what happened?"

"We sparred with the girl, and left her unconscious then went to retrieve 'the package.'"

"Did you have any problems there," Armani asked next.

"We ran into some minor problems there - nothing serious," Chief answered. Compared to the fight with the witch, it had been much easier, if just a little more time consuming getting the boy.

"I presume you have pictures for me to show the interested parties that I have their 'package?'"

"Yes, sir. I'll send those now," Chief answered. He took the phone away from his ear and brought up the menu on the LCD screen to transmit the pictures he had taken of Jonny.

A moment later his employer said, "I have the images now."

Chief heard some muted cursing from his employer before he asked, "What happened? You didn't do this did you?"

"No sir. That happened, from what we can tell, in the wreck yesterday. We've done nothing more than take precautions to keep our location secure," Chief answered, understanding his employer's caution. It did look like they had handled the kid roughly, but in all reality, they hadn't.

"Okay, then. I just want to be clear that the 'package' is to be handled with caution and care," Armani cautioned.

"Yes, sir. I'm making sure that it won't," Chief replied.

"See that it doesn't. Call me if anything changes," Armani said. He paused for a moment then said, "I'll let you know on what you're to do with 'the package' when all the arrangements have been made."

"That would be good, sir. Anything else?" Chief asked.

"No. Nothing for now," Armani said.

"Good. I'd better go see how the rest of my team is doing. It's been a long day," Chief said, shifting his weight again to ease the weight off his injured knee.

"Keep in touch."

"Yes, sir, I'll do that," Chief said and disconnected the call.

He sighed, rolled his shoulders and looked at the setting sun off in the distance before painfully making his way back to the elevator that would take him to the lower levels of the storage facility.

* * *

Down below, Jonny roused from sleep to see that there was a plastic cup and one of those travel packs of ibuprofen on the nightstand. Having the cool washcloth over his eyes had helped to ease the irritation caused by the too tight blindfold. The nap had helped to ease the throbbing headache back to an almost manageable level.

With slow and careful movements, he was able to get up from the bed and take the cup into the bathroom to get some fresh water to take the ibuprofen that Pilot had left behind.

He chided himself for sleeping so soundly while being held by a bunch of unknown goons. He had to be more alert to figure a way out of this mess. He had to find a way to get word to his dad and Race on where he was. Hah! He thought. That would be a good one, since he didn't even know where he was.

Again, he slowly made his way back to the bed with the damp washcloth and the plastic tumbler of water. He took the medicine and wondered if these goons would be the type to feed him or the type to give him nothing but bread and water. Even if he were hungry, he didn't think he could keep it down right now. His stomach was doing flip-flops at the mere thought of food.

Gah! What a start to summer vacation! First the plane wreck, then the concussion and now captured by bad guys! He hadn't even done anything to attract their attention that he knew of. It would just figure if he had to move out of the dorms and have to live in a 'safe house' with Race shadowing him to and from all his classes. The other scenario was - he would be forced to drop out of school, move back home and go back to tutors and on-line courses. Boring! Again he thought, he had to find a way out of there himself! If he didn't, he didn't want to know what consequences he would have to deal with afterwards.

He still worried about Jessie and hoped that she would be okay. The search and rescue parties had to have found her by now, hadn't they? Someone would know he wasn't with her and they would be looking high and low for him.

Despite his churning thoughts, Jonny fell asleep once more, his body demanding rest in order to heal.

* * *

Somehow to Benton, the drive back into Helena seemed longer than the drive out. He was more than worried now about Jonny. Who had taken him and why? He looked back behind him, envying Hadji's calm. He knew Hadji was just as worried about Jonny, but his other son was handling it much better than he was. Perhaps he ought to have taken some meditation lessons from Hadji to better cope with this current crisis.

His thoughts turned to Jessie. She had gotten hurt trying to defend Jonny. She was very much her father's daughter in that respect. With a silent sigh, Benton felt himself caught between pride at seeing Jessie turn out to be such a capable young woman and anger at the thought she could take on three grown men who were just as skilled, if not more so, than her in hand to hand combat. He wondered just why she had thought to take them on instead of guiding Jonny away and to possible safety.

He knew he ought to call Race and see how Jessie was doing, but his regular mobile phone would have a hard time keeping a solid signal because of the mountains. He would have to wait until they got closer to Helena before calling his friend to get an update on Jessie's condition.

Face it Benton, he silently chided himself. You're taking the coward's route here. You have a satellite phone here in the car. You can just as easily use that phone to call Race and see how Jessie is.

It was Hadji, however, who said, "Should we not call Race and let him know we are on our way back?"

"Thank you for reminding me, Hadji," Benton said in a heartfelt tone.

"Is the satellite phone in the arm rest?" Hadji, bless him, was not going to let him off the hook.

"Yes, it is," Benton answered and moved to pull out the phone. He pulled up Race's cell phone number and hit send before he could chicken out again.

The phone rang twice before Race answered, "Bannon," in a muted tone.

"Race, it's Benton. We're on our way back to Helena now," Benton said.

"Doc - did you find Jonny?" Race asked, his voice a cross between hopefulness and worry.

"No," Benton sighed. "The kidnappers got to the main road some time ahead of us."

"Shit," Race swore softly.

Benton silently agreed with him, but cursing right now wouldn't help them find Jonny any faster. He knew the FBI agents and the police locally would do anything they could to find him. It was the waiting for an answer, any answer, that wasn't going to be easy. To drag his thoughts away from that dark pattern he asked, "How's Jessie?"

It was Race's turn to sigh, "She's resting right now. We just got done talking to the orthopedic surgeons and they told us all about what they'll be doing tomorrow for the surgery on her ankle and what the recovery process will entail."

"Surgery?" Benton questioned, feeling a fresh surge of guilt.

"Yeah -" Race answered. "She's got what they call a 'level three sprain' and they're going to have to surgically repair the damage."

Benton recalled that that type of 'sprain' was just shy of an actual fracture and would take as long, if not longer, to heal than an actual fracture.

"What's the FBI doing now?" Race asked.

"Setting up road blocks and searching all vehicles coming in and out of Helena, I guess," Benton said heavily. He avoided looking back at the FBI agent that was sitting in the backseat next to Hadji. He was too tired right now to think about what the next step would be for the agents involved in looking for his younger son. The long flight from Berlin yesterday coupled with the day's exertions were catching up to him and he could feel the exhaustion seeping into every last cell of his body.

Gathering his thoughts, he asked, "Are you coming back to the hotel tonight?"

"I don't think so, Doc. I'm going to stay here to keep an eye on Jessie. Tomorrow Estella will be here and I'll be able to go back to looking for Jonny."

"Estella's on her way here?" Benton asked, feeling his eyebrows climb his forehead in surprise.

"Yeah - she's got the itinerary from hell, but there's no stopping her from being here," Race answered with a small chuckle.

"Just how did she take the news about Jessie being hurt?" Benton asked.

"Oh, you know Stella, Doc - first she swears, then she's downright chilling in her interrogation. I think Phil could learn a thing or two from her in interrogation techniques," Race answered, more than a hint of fondness for his ex-wife in his voice.

"That good?" Benton questioned, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"You could say that," Race said. "I have a feeling she'll really lay into me tomorrow when she gets here."

"We should be back in Helena in what -" Benton paused and looked at Andrea for confirmation, "a little over an hour. Do you want us to bring you something to eat?"

Eriksson quietly affirmed Andrea's answer that they were.

"That would be great, Doc. You know hospital food - it's pretty bad no matter where you are."

"We'll call you before we head over to let you know what we're getting," Benton said.

"Thanks, Doc. I'll see you in a couple of hours then," Race stated appreciatively.

"Right, see you then, Race," Benton said and disconnected the call.

With a sigh, he put the phone back into its cradle in the armrest and leaned his head back tiredly against the headrest for a moment. Jessie was facing surgery for trying to defend an injured Jonny. Who were these men that wanted Jonny so badly that they would hurt Jessie that badly? It was just one question of many about this whole situation that he didn't have an answer to yet...

Hadji spoke up after Benton returned the phone to the armrest, "You mentioned surgery, Doctor Quest. How badly was Jessie hurt?"

"Her ankle, Hadji," Benton explained. "She's got a severe sprain and there was tearing of the ligaments that they have to go in and surgically repair."

"That is not good. Not good at all, Doctor Quest," Hadji said, shaking his head.

"Ouch," Andrea quietly commented. "I knew it was bad, but I was hoping it wasn't that bad."

"Those are a real pain. I did something similar to my knee on a skiing trip when I was in college. Took forever for that to heal," Eriksson quietly remarked.

"A fracture would take less time to heal than this type of injury," Benton said.

Hadji nodded and offered, "I would bet Jessie is most displeased about this injury."

"I would agree with you there, Hadji," Andrea said as they rounded another bend. "You mentioned someone else coming, Doctor Quest. I'll be more than happy to pick them up at the airport when they get in."

"Oh yes, Estella, Jessie's mother, is flying up from Venezuela this evening," Benton answered and then said, "That will work wonderfully, Andrea, thank you."

"And Race is still in one piece?" Hadji asked wryly.

"For the moment, anyway," Benton chuckled. The humor helped to relieve the despair that had seemed so overwhelming moments before.

"What time does Doctor Velasquez arrive?" Andrea asked. She knew not to call Race's ex-wife Mrs. Bannon. Not if she wanted to live, anyway.

"Not until after 7:30 tomorrow evening," Benton answered.

Andrea winced, "And she's leaving from Venezuela tonight?"

Benton nodded.

"Ouch," Andrea said. "That's a long time to be in the air."

"Indeed it is," Hadji agreed.

Eriksson winced and nodded in agreement with Hadji and Andrea.

"Well, Helena isn't exactly a major international destination," Benton shrugged.

"True," Hadji agreed.

Then Benton had another thought - it would mean no end of headaches for Estella getting through customs with such an insane itinerary. A call to Phil Corvin would probably be in order here... Before he even finished that thought, he had the satellite phone back in hand and was calling Phil. The third ring had Phil's secretary picking up the line and asking Benton to hold just for a few moments while Phil wrapped up his call with SAC Eriksson.

It didn't take long for Phil to come on the line and say, "Corvin here. What can I do for you, Doctor Quest?"

"Not so much for me as for Race," Benton said. "You know that Estella's flying up from Venezuela almost as we speak..."

"Right," Phil answered and Benton heard the sound of Phil tapping on his keyboard, "I just got a copy of her itinerary." He paused briefly and Benton knew he was looking at it. "Ouch. That's an ugly itinerary just to get to your location."

"That's my thought," Benton said. "Considering she only bought a one-way ticket, you know customs and immigration is going to have a fit."

"Damn, you're right, Benton. I'll take care of it. Estella will have no problems with immigrations and customs."

Benton sighed, "Thanks, Phil. That will help balance things out for Race."

Phil changed the subject and questioned, "How are you holding up, Benton?"

"I honestly don't know right now, Phil. We've all been in tight spots before, but this just seems different, somehow. More menacing, since I have no idea who would want Jonny."

"You haven't had any recent threats, have you?" Phil asked.

"Nothing," Benton shrugged. "It's been quiet - not even Zin or his daughters have done anything in recent months."

"That's what I thought. I just wanted to make certain that we weren't missing anything," Phil said, and it was his turn to sigh now. He exploded moment later, "Damn it! I know the key to this is staring me in the face, but it's just out of reach."

"Just out of reach like Jonny," Benton quietly commented.

Phil swore again, much softer in volume this time. "Damn. Yeah, just like Jonny. We will find him, Benton. You know that."

"I know we will. I can't afford to let myself think otherwise, Phil," Benton answered honestly. "But, in the meantime, before I know who's taken Jonny and why, the waiting is extremely hard."

"I hear you, Benton, I hear you," Phil said, full of understanding. "Look, get something to eat and try to get some rest, Benton. You know you'll be the first one the kidnappers contact."

"That's the plan after we bring Race something to eat at the hospital. He's staying there with Jessie tonight," Benton replied to Phil's command.

"All right then," Phil said. "Just keep me informed and I'll do likewise."

"You got it, Phil," Benton agreed. "Talk to you later."

"You bet. Take care, Benton." Phil said and hung up the phone.

Benton hit the end button on the satellite phone and returned it to its charging station before leaning his head tiredly back against the headrest.


	10. Chapter 10 First Contact

**Chapter 10  
First Contact**

It took time, but they finally made it into Helena and they went back in the way they had exited the hotel that morning - a side door that led to the stairs that would take them up to their floor almost right outside their rooms.

I think, perhaps, it might be easier to use the elevator when we go to visit Jessie," Hadji commented as they exited the stairway on the third floor.

"I agree, Hadji," Benton agreed tiredly. His knees were aching and his legs felt more rubbery than he wanted to admit. That shower was looking awfully good as he watched Hadji fish his keycard out of his pocket and insert it into the lock.

"The media will be foraging over at the hangar for now. Whitmore will be busy grandstanding for a while there, I'm sure," Eriksson said, not bothering to hide his lack of respect for the NTSB director.

"Let's say we regroup in what, an hour?" Andrea asked, opening the door to her own room.

Hadji nodded while Benton answered, "Sounds good. We'll figure out what to do for dinner and call Race to see what he wants to order then."

"Right," Andrea said and entered her room.

Bandit came rushing out of Hadji and Benton's hotel room, clearly expecting Jonny to be with them, then stopped up short at the site of the FBI Agent. He cocked his head and looked up at him for a moment before barking once, almost questioningly.

Eriksson knelt down and held out a hand for Bandit to sniff as he said, "I'm sorry boy, we don't have Jonny yet."

Bandit butted the hand, telling Eriksson he was supposed to pet him now. He cocked his head to look at the FBI agent again as Eriksson complied with the physical command.

"I see you've passed the Bandit test," Benton remarked with a cocked eyebrow and half smile.

"Yes, Bandit and I formally met this morning when Hadji and I took him down for his walk," Eriksson answered, slowly standing back up.

His phone went off as he stood up and he pulled it off his belt to look at the caller ID, "Eriksson." He paused for a moment, waiting for the caller on the other end to say something before asking, "Can I call you right back?" He got an answer and said, "Yeah, this will only take me a couple of minutes, tops." Another pause then, "Yeah, talk to you in a few." he hit the end button on the phone and turned back to Hadji and Benton, "I have to take this call. Why don't I take Bandit downstairs for a walk while you get ready to get ready to visit the Bannons at the hospital?"

Bandit wagged his tail excitedly and barked once, indicating his approval of the plan.

"That sounds fine to me," Benton easily agreed.

"I think Bandit has indicated his wishes in this," Hadji said with a faint smile.

Bandit looked to Hadji and barked once, definitely proving his point.

"I think it's settled. We'll get ready and Bandit will go for his walk," Hadji said.

"You really don't mind, do you?" Benton asked the FBI agent.

"Not at all. This gives me a chance to catch up on my calls while you all get ready," the FBI agent answered

"Bandit, go get your leash," Hadji said to the small, white dog with the black mask around his eyes.

The little dog took off at a run into the room and moved the desk chair back in order to hop up into it and grab his leash off the desk. He returned a moment later with the middle of the lead clamped proudly between his teeth and the rest of it trailing on either side of him. He sat down and dropped the leash at Agent Eriksson's feet with a short bark.

The FBI agent knelt back down and clipped it to Bandit's collar, "I think that Bandit's made up his mind on what he wants. Seriously, I have calls to make and I can just as easily get them done outside with Bandit."

Benton gave in with a nod, "All right then, and thank you, Agent Eriksson."

"It's not a problem at all, Doctor Quest," Eriksson answered, getting back to his feet and clipping his phone back on his belt.

Bandit gave him an impatient look, clearly wanting to be off.

"We'll be back in a bit," Eriksson answered, heading down the hallway to the elevators.

Benton watched them go, looking almost lost for a second at the site of Bandit going off with the FBI Agent, when it should be Jonny.

Hadji patiently waited for Benton to come out of his revererie and enter the room, before closing and locking the door behind them.

"Why don't you get in the shower first, Doctor Quest?" Hadji suggested.

"I don't think I'm going to argue with you on that, Hadji," Benton said wearily. He moved over to his suitcase and pulled out fresh clothes before heading into the bathroom.

For his part, Hadji undid his turban, kicked off his shoes and sat cross-legged in the center of his bed. It took him but moments to ground and center himself in order to drop into a deep meditative state. This would be his way to recharge for now.

The sound of Benton emerging from the bathroom was enough to bring Hadji up from his meditation. He stretched, feeling muscles protest slightly after the long day, and got up to gather his things in order to take his shower.

"Any word, Hadji?" Benton asked, toweling his hair dry.

"No," Hadji answered. "The phones have been quiet. I have not checked my email - it can wait until our return from the hospital."

Benton nodded, "Good idea. If I sit down to check mine, we'll never get out of here."

"That is true," Hadji said and the slipped into the bathroom to take his shower.

Hadji took his time, standing under the hot spray of the showerhead that had some force behind it, allowing the heat to soak into his muscles. It helped to ease the aches from the day's hike. He had not had much chance to do any serious hiking this past semester. That was one of the disadvantages of going off to school - he had missed the traveling and seeing new places. The other had been the lack of time to get out and do some serious hiking and backpacking.

Sure he swam - it helped to clear his head almost as much as meditation, but the over chlorinated swimming pool at the multi-purpose was a pale comparison to the warm waters off Palm Key.

He was worried about Jonny - this not knowing who had taken him was most disturbing. At least when they tangled with someone like Zin, you pretty much knew up front what he was up to. It couldn't be Rage. He was gone and buried after his last attempt to blow up the planet had literally backfired in his face. Nothing. The modus operandi matched no one that they had come across before and that really worried him. His internal alarm clock warned him that if he didn't get a move on, he wouldn't have time to dry his hair before they left for the hospital. He emerged from the bathroom dried and dressed with a few minutes to spare before leaving and found Benton stretched out asleep on his bed. Deciding to leave his adoptive father resting for the moment, Hadji rewrapped his turban.

It was just as he finished, that he heard the distinctive rattle of Bandit's tags out in the hallway. He met Agent Eriksson and Bandit at the door. Bandit trotted at the FBI agent's side, off the leash, panting heavily and looking quite pleased with himself.

Eriksson remarked quietly, "I don't think there's a squirrel in the park that will forget Bandit for a while."

Hadji smiled and nodded in agreement, taking the leash from Agent Eriksson. "Bandit has always mistaken his size. I think in a former life, he might have been a Great Dane or a Rottweiler."

Eriksson laughed, "That I can believe."

Bandit trotted into the room, drank some water, looked around again for Jonny, obviously hoping that his human would appear by the time he'd returned. Not seeing him, he jumped up onto Benton's bed and settled himself there, still panting.

It was the shaking of the bed from Bandit's panting that woke Benton up. He sat up and rubbed a hand over his face before reaching down to pet the small dog. "I see you had a good run, Bandit."

Bandit wagged his tail and reached over to slurp Benton's hand. Benton scratched the dog behind his ears and Bandit couldn't decide which way to lean, but closed his eyes in rapture at the attention.

Andrea emerged from her room her long hair pulled back in a simple clip at the nape of her neck, dressed in black slacks, a black tank top that was covered by a sheer black blouse with cutout patterns. She had a black blazer draped over one arm as she put her keycard in the back pocket of her purse.

She saw Hadji and Eriksson talking in the doorway to Hadji's room and asked, "Are we ready to go?"

"Just about," Hadji answered and looked to Benton who had stood up and stretched.

"Just give me a moment to splash some cold water on my face and put on my shoes, then I'll be ready to go," Benton replied, reaching over to give Bandit one final pet before moving over to the bathroom.

Dinner discussion was brief and they decided on Chinese food. Eriksson directed them to a good restaurant that was only two blocks from the hotel, and after calling Race, placed all their orders. He was the one who went in and picked up the bags of food and everything that went with it, explaining that it was on the government's tab.

At the hospital, he nodded to the guard who had been stationed outside Jessie's door and asked, "Has the press been causing any problems?"

"No, sir," the guard answered. "They haven't found us - yet. The hospital switchboard has been instructed to give false information in the event anyone calls and the medical staff is sticking to patient privacy laws, so they won't release any information."

"Great. You know to contact me if you have any problems," Eriksson said with a nod.

"Yes sir," was the reply.

Satisfied that things were in hand, Eriksson headed into the room to see how Jessie was doing for himself. However, she paled and swallowed convulsively as the scent of the spicy Chinese food reached her.

"I take it, Szechwan Chicken is off the menu for you Miss Bannon," Eriksson said with an apologetic smile.

"Uh, yeah," Jessie answered, her face taking on a green tint.

Race wanted to stay with her, but his grumbling stomach wanted that spicy Szechwan Chicken.

"Go eat, Dad," Jessie said, still fighting to keep her stomach under control.

"I won't be far, Ponchita and there's the guard just outside the door," Race assured his daughter, standing up and placing a light kiss on her left cheek.

"Please, just go before I get sick," Jessie urged quietly, swallowing convulsively again.

Hadji and Andrea already had taken the hint headed for the door, Benton right behind them with Race and Agent Eriksson bringing up the rear.

"Which way now?" Hadji asked the FBI agent.

"The cafeteria's downstairs," Eriksson answered, leading the way.

Race remarked, "You seem to know your way around here."

"Both my kids were born here. St. Pete's actually has a fairly forward thinking staff," Eriksson answered. "Your daughter's in excellent hands here."

"Nice to hear that," Race commented. "Now, do you have any news for us on the goons who took Jonny?"

"I'll tell you what I know when we get down to the cafeteria," Eriksson said with a heavy sigh.

Race didn't like the sound of that sigh and gave the agent a sideways look.

* * *

Estella recognized the landmarks as they approached Buenos Aires. They were only about fifteen minutes from landing at the private airport that was about forty minutes from her apartment in the city near the university. She hoped she'd be able to find a taxi right away when they landed. She didn't have much time to spare in order to make it to her first flight out of the country.

"Where you headed next, Professor?" the lanky American asked.

"To my apartment for clean, warmer clothes and then I have a flight out to DC at nine this evening," Estella answered.

"Not much turn around time for you," he remarked.

"No, but it's the best I can do last minute," Estella said on a sigh.

"Well, we'll be down in about ten minutes," Larry answered, beginning his landing checklist. He called the tower and got his directions for landing, slowing their speed and dropping the flaps.

He was true to his word and within ten minutes, they were on the ground and taxing off the runway to park on the tarmac.

As soon as they were parked and the engines shutting down, Larry was out of the plane and grabbing her bags from the rear before Estella had a chance to get herself organized.

"Good luck, Professor," Larry said by way of parting.

"Thanks, Larry," Estella said, shouldering her bags and taking off at a quick walk for the terminal. She cut through the building, heading for the taxi stand just outside the front door.

Quickly snagging a taxi, she gave him the address of her apartment and managed to find enough money in her wallet to pay for the ride there and for him to wait while she got ready for her trip to the states.

Estella didn't bother to check her answering machine – there was nothing that couldn't wait until she got to the states, and had seen her daughter. She dumped her clothes she'd brought back from the dig in the hamper and began packing for her trip north. A quick shower and a hastily scribbled note to her housekeeper, then she was checking her list of what she needed before heading back out the door to the waiting taxi.

"Where to now?" the driver asked her in Spanish as he slid back behind the wheel of the cab after putting her luggage in the trunk.

"The International terminal at the Don Torcuato," Estella answered him.

"Si, Senora. Which airline?" the driver asked next.

"United."

"Si, si, Senora."

Estella sat back in the seat, taking the time now to collect her scattered thoughts and to calm her breathing from her mad rush to get ready. She was on her way and would be at Jessie's side hopefully within twenty-four hours of when she finally got to leave Buenos Aires tonight.

* * *

Once they were settled in the cafeteria with the food sorted out, Eriksson began relaying what information he had.

"I take it that you don't have much in the way of good news," Race said before taking a bite of his meal.

Eriksson shook his head, taking the moment to finish the bite of his food. "We have a rental car in Kalispell – a full size SUV - but it was wiped clean when it was returned. The id used, of course, was fake and the card used was just pre-purchased MasterCard – no name on it. The fraud guys are tracing where the card was purchased now, but it's one of those that doesn't require an id to purchase, since you can buy them with cash. We'll get a store and maybe a picture, but not much hope there."

Benton asked next, "What about the picture from the ID? Have you gotten anything from that?"

Eriksson took another bite of his dinner before answering, "So far, no hits in the criminal database, but it's a search that's going to take all night, at the least."

Hadji was silent, eating his steamed vegetables and rice expertly with his chopsticks, letting the conversation flow around him.

Benton sighed heavily and Race felt like echoing it. He took another bite of his chicken, trying to enjoy the rich and spicy taste of it. For Helena being pretty much off the beaten track, it was the best Szechwan chicken he'd tasted in a while. Focusing his thoughts back on the situation at hand, he admitted to himself it was going to take a while to get Jonny back, unless they heard from his kidnappers and got an idea on what they wanted. He was sure that this was far removed from what the kids had envisioned spending their summer vacation.

He finally said, "So, right now, you really don't have anything?"

"Not a lot. We have the composites of the guys Jessie said attacked them up in the mountains that we're circulating and running for criminal ids and such. Again – with all the various databases to search through, the computers will be running all night narrowing the search down."

"Which databases are you searching?" Race asked next.

Eriksson took another bite of his food and answered, "We're starting with the US criminal database - NCIC, and working our way through the US military records, Interpol and then going for the FBI and CIA's databases."

"Do you really think you'll have to go that far?" Benton asked.

"I'm hoping we'll find something in the NCIC, but I have my doubts there. This seems too clean and too organized to be your garden variety criminal," Eriksson answered truthfully.

Race nodded in agreement. Everything they had seen so far had pointed to some very well connected and well-organized people. Your average criminal didn't operate in such an organized manner. He certainly hoped that they would find something in the Interpol and military databases. He had serious doubts about the Us Intelligence Agencies willingly opening their databases. The days of "Inter-agency cooperation" were still not here. The events of 9/11 had only heightened the mistrust between the various agencies, despite the claims to the contrary, not to mention the 'new kid' on the block - Homeland Security, really didn't share the real data they collected from their sources.

"Do you think it could be a rogue FBI or CIA agent?" Benton asked.

Race could see that the Doc was still firing on all cylinders despite his clear exhaustion. That was Benton for you – the man was always thinking, even when dead on his feet.

"I hope not, but I am not ruling anything out yet," Eriksson answered honestly.

All was quiet for a few minutes as everyone concentrated on his or her food.

A few moments later, Andrea reported what she had found out. "I put a call into the hangar when we got back to the hotel to check on the plane's maintenance history. That particular jet is only a couple of years old and didn't have enough miles logged onto it yet to suggest the thermostat going out on either engine. I had the maintenance log sent to the NTSB office here, since that will be one of the things they'll be looking at."

"When was the last time the plane was worked on?" Eriksson asked.

"Two weeks before Jessie flew out to San Francisco. It was basic work – changing fluids, make sure the engines are firing correctly."

"Could the plane have been sabotaged then?"

Andrea and Race shook their heads.

"Very unlikely," Andrea stated.

"Jessie is rated to fly most of the jets in the corporate fleet – it just happened to be luck of the draw she got that one," Race answered.

"How many planes do you have?" Eriksson asked.

"About ten in the corporate fleet. A couple are outfitted for specific scientific research and Jessie hasn't checked out on those specific jets," Race reported.

"What about Jonny?" Eriksson asked.

"Jonny, like Jessie, can fly almost anything. He practically grew up in the cockpit with Jessie," Benton answered. "He doesn't have all his licenses, but he knows how to fly. That was the reason we gave in to them and let Jessie take a jet out there so he could come home from school for the summer."

"Okay, so where could the plane have been parked to be accessible?"

"Last night – Jessie flew out last night and the plane was parked at a friend's hangar," Race answered, feeling a helpless rage building up inside. Who could be so manipulative and knowing of their motives to bring down a plane just to get to Jonny?

"Which airport? I can hopefully get something from the security footage that might help lead us to Jonny," the FBI agent questioned.

"Oakland. It's close to the Berkley campus where Jonny's going to college," Benton answered.

Race sighed and wondered if it wouldn't be safer if they just went back to home-schooling the kids and never let them out of their sites again. He looked over to Hadji and got a look in return that just said that he could forget about that idea. He'd forgotten how perceptive Hadji was and had to admit to himself that yeah, keeping the kids home just wasn't a viable option. They couldn't protect them forever by keeping them isolated from the world.

Eriksson wrote down the name of Benton's friend that Jessie had parked the jet at last night to pass onto the field office in San Francisco after dinner.

Race knew that every little bit of information they could gather could help lead them to the people who were behind the kidnapping. The waiting, as always, was the hardest part.

Dinner was finished and Andrea rode to his rescue by handing him one of those breath strips.

"Here. You don't want to go back in there smelling like the very thing that almost made her sick the first time. She'd never forgive you," Andrea said, holding out the small packet to him.

"Thanks," Race acknowledged with a nod. He expected his mouth to be seared with an antiseptic/minty flavor, but was surprised at the minty-orange taste that burst from the strip.

Andrea turned and made sure that each member of the group had taken one before they headed back up to Jessie's room. Race found he couldn't fault her logic – that was the one thing he had never dealt well with when the kids were sick. He really hated being around when any of them had had the stomach flu. That was his major weakness and it turned his stomach just thinking about it.

Jessie was dozing on their return and Race was leery of waking her. The decision was taken out of his hands when the nurse bustled in to do the hourly concussion check. Race watched as she grousingly complied with having the nurse check her blood pressure, pulse, temperature and her eye dilation.

"That's the worst part – having that light shined in your eyes," Jessie sighed, as the nurse flicked the penlight in first one eye and then the other.

"You know I have to do this, Jessie," the nurse answered, putting her penlight back in her pocket and then checking Jessie's blood pressure and pulse.

Jessie waited until the nurse had pulled her stethoscope back out of her ears and unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from around her arm before commenting, "Standard treatment for a concussion. I know, I know…"

"You sound like you're talking from experience," the nurse asked with a sideways look at Jessie.

Jessie saw Race lurking in the doorway and answered, "I've managed to avoid the whole getting hit over the head thing until now. Unlike my dad…"

The nurse turned and raised an eyebrow at Race who shrugged it off, "Better me than you, Ponchita. It's all part of the job."

The nurse turned back to Jessie, "I know you're not up for anything heavy, but do you want some Jell-o?"

"What flavors?" Jessie asked.

"I believe we have cherry, blueberry and orange."

"Cherry, please," Jessie answered.

"Okay then, cherry it is," the nurse said, closing Jessie's binder and taking it with her.

Jessie looked back to her father and asked, "Do we have any word on Jonny yet?"

Race shook his head as he took the chair at her bedside, "Sorry Ponchita, none yet."

"They sure went to an awful lot of trouble to get him," she remarked worriedly.

"That they did, Jessie," Dr. Quest remarked.

"Were my composites any good?" Jessie asked next.

Race had to give his daughter credit; she never quit thinking.

"We're still running them. So far, we've had no hits," Eriksson answered.

Jessie sighed, "I guess it would be too much to find them right away."

"Sometimes we get lucky and that does happen," the FBI agent answered.

"But not this time," Jessie said on a sigh.

"No, it doesn't look that way," Eriksson admitted. "But those were some good composites you gave us of the men who took Jonny."

"It's all in the details," Jessie said. "I learned to pay attention to the little things early on."

The nurse returned with the Jell-o for Jessie and cautioned, "You shouldn't be doing all that much talking, Jessie."

"We have to find Jonny," she said to the nurse.

"You have a fractured cheekbone – you don't need to be doing all that much talking," the nurse stated again.

Race saw the nurse's statement bring back to the forefront his daughter's injuries as what little color she'd managed to regain in her face under her bruising drained away.

"It's time for another dose of your pain meds," she said, pulling out a syringe from the pocket of her scrubs, and checked the sticker on it, verifying it was the right dosage for the right patient before injecting it into Jessie's IV. "Now, take it easy on the talking."

"But, Jonny…" Jessie protested.

"Has a lot of people who _aren't_ injured looking for him. _You _are injured and have surgery for your ankle in the morning," the nurse said emphatically. She turned her attention back to Race. "I assume it would take nothing less than a pry bar to get you away from your daughter's side tonight?"

"You got that right," Race nodded emphatically. He wasn't going to leave her side in case the men who'd taken Jonny decided to make an attempt to take her now too. No one was going to hurt his baby girl while he was around.

"I'll bring a pillow and a blanket for you then. The chair folds down into a cot," she said with a nod to the chair Race was sitting in.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Race answered.

The nurse turned to the rest of the group, "I know visiting hours aren't over for another hour, but Jessie needs to rest."

Race could see for himself that the pain meds were kicking in as Jessie's eyes started to lose their focused look.

"Is there anything you want from the hotel, Race?" Benton asked.

"My toiletries kit from my bag and a fresh shirt would be great, Doc," Race answered, looking back to Benton.

"I'll run them by on my way home," Eriksson stated. "I have to come back by this way in order to get home."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Race stated.

Hadji spoke up, "I think we had best be on our way."

"I'm not asleep yet, Hadj," Jessie protested, shifting on the bed, trying to sit up straighter, then hissing as she jarred her ankle.

"Not yet, but you are on your way to being there, Jessie," Hadji stated calmly.

"It's the meds," Jessie said around a yawn.

"Yes, and you need your rest," Hadji reasoned with her.

Race was glad that looks couldn't kill for the glare that she shot her friend.

"Hadj, you're worse than my dad," Jessie grumbled.

"Of course, that's because I can get away with it, being your best friend," Hadji smiled serenely at her.

Jessie started to shake her head, thought better of it and fixed him with another glare, "Hadj, that makes no sense."

Hadji didn't loose his smile, and answered, "I have my escape routes planned and can be out of your immediate reach before you know it."

"Not fair, Hadj – picking on me when I can't - " Jessie had to stop as she fought back another big yawn. "I can't tell which is worse – being dizzy from the concussion or having it multiplied by the pain meds."

"I think we will leave you to sleep then, Jessie," Benton stepped forward to place a light kiss on her forehead. "What time are you due to head into surgery tomorrow morning?"

"Uhm.." Jessie answered, the pain shot clearly making it hard for her to think.

Race remembered what the doctors had told them in the briefing, "They said they'd be taking her down to pre-op about ten am."

"Well, we'll make it by before then." Benton said, with nods from Andrea and Hadji.

"What about Jonny?" Jessie said, fighting now to keep her eyes open.

"If we find out where they're holding him soon, we'll see," Benton assured her.

"They wanted him," Jessie murmured.

Race could see she was right on the edge of falling asleep.

"We know, Jess honey. We know. You rest now and let us find him," he assured her. He looked back to Benton, "Keep me in the loop, Doc. I'll be ready, willing and able to go after Jonny once Estella gets here tomorrow night."

"I will Race. I promise," Benton assured him. "He'll need you to get him away from whomever's captured him before he manages to drive them up the wall."

Hadji hid a smile behind his hand. They all knew that Jonny specialized in antagonizing the bad guys.

Andrea said, "Don't worry, Race. I'll make sure Dr. Quest stays out of trouble tomorrow before I pick up Estella from the airport."

"Thanks, Andrea," Race said, meaning it. It tore him up that he couldn't be out there leading the search for Jonny, but he wasn't going to leave his daughter to face surgery alone. He couldn't do that. If he even thought of it, he knew there'd be a line starting behind the Doc first, telling him to stay with Jessie.

The group headed towards the door and Eriksson paused in the doorway to say, "I'll be back in a short while with your stuff, Race."

"Thanks," Race nodded. He looked Benton over from head to toe one last time and said, "Get some sleep tonight, Doc. You look like hell."

Benton chuckled and shook his head. "I'll try, Race. I'll try."

The group shuffled off and shortly after the night nurse, Tiffany, as her name tag read, came bustling back in with a pillow, a sheet and a blanket.

"Here you go, Mr. Bannon," she said, handing them off to him.

"Thanks," Race said, accepting the bundle. "Do you need to wake her up so soon to check her vitals?"

Tiffany checked her watch and said, "No, not for another hour."

Race nodded, "She just drifted off again."

"All right, I'll be back in an hour. I'll be at the desk if you need me."

Race unfolded the cot chair and put the linens on it. Now that things were winding down, he could feel his own exhaustion burning at him. It had been a long day and even if he wasn't as jet-lagged as the Doc, he still hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. He'd wait until Eriksson dropped off his stuff before he stretched out for the night.

* * *

Benton felt exhaustion kicking in big time. He hoped he'd actually be able to sleep tonight.

"If it will help, Dr. Quest, I do have some melatonin in my bag at the hotel," Andrea offered as they walked back through the hospital parking garage.

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to try for chamomile tea first," Benton answered with a small smile. "I happen to know that Hadji always keeps a store of tea on hand."

"I will brew tea when we return to the hotel, Doctor Quest," Hadji said with a nod to him.

Before Benton could say anything else, his cell phone started ringing. Thinking maybe Race had forgotten something, or maybe Phil had some news for him, he pulled it out. He looked at the display, "Caller ID unavailable?"

Eriksson raised his eyebrows in puzzlement, but suggested, "Answer it. It might be the call we've been waiting for."

"Benton Quest," Benton said after hitting the answer button on his phone.

A scrambled voice said, "Ah, Dr. Quest…I believe I have something you are looking for."


	11. Chapter 11 Emails, Planes, Weather & Cap

Chapter 11 –

Emails, Planes, Weather & Captivity

Some time later, Jonny woke up again, finding the lights in the room off. The only light came from the bathroom. _Okay,_ he figured, slowly sitting up, _it must be sometime in the evening._ He wondered if the lights were on a timer, or if they were manually shut off from the outside. They weren't on a motion sensor, he decided, since they didn't click on the minute he sat up.

It would be nice to have his watch, if only to be able to tell the time. He wouldn't be able to tell if it was night or day, being this far underground. The lighting level told him it was quite probably nighttime, but nothing else. _The good part_, he thought, _is_ _that the cold compresses are working_ _and the swelling around my eyes is going down. I can open them more; they aren't watering any longer._ He sighed and slowly swung his legs to the floor. _Nausea, check, still here, but not nearly so bad as long as I move slowly._

He took the washcloth with him, intent on wetting it down with cool water to put back over his eyes again after he used the facilities.

Coming back out of the bathroom, he looked up towards the ceiling where he thought he saw a small, steady red light. "Hey, is there any chance I can get something to eat? At least some crackers? Come on, I need something to stop my stomach from churning!"

He sat back down on the bed and wondered if anyone was paying attention to the security feed from his cell. Well, he supposed he could wait a few minutes before making another call to the camera. He lay back down with the cold washcloth over his eyes once more to wait.

Jonny wasn't sure how much time passed, but he heard a knock on the door and a voice said, "Cover your eyes, kid. I'm turning on the lights."

"Covered," Jonny said, putting a hand over the washcloth to keep it in place as he slowly sat up. He knew the light would be killer on his eyes when it first clicked on.

He could hear the deadbolt turning in the lock of the door then the door being opened. He heard the slight echo of footsteps and the crinkle of plastic before he heard the crinkling stop and the slight thunk of something heavier being set down on the table next to the bed.

"A thermos of chicken noodle soup and saltine crackers," the voice said. Jonny identified him as Pilot.

"Thanks," Jonny said and then asked, "Is there anyway I can get a clock or something to tell the time? After all, your 'friend' took my watch."

"I'll see what I can do," Pilot said, making no promises. "How are the eyes?"

"Still swollen, but not hurting as bad," Jonny answered. "Why? What do you care?"

"Our employer isn't paying us for damaged goods," was the simple answer.

"Well, your friends didn't seem to care about that," Jonny remarked, still keeping the washcloth over his eyes.

"They didn't realize that you and your bodyguard would be so 'reluctant'." Pilot answered, and Jonny couldn't tell what Pilot meant by the emphasis on _reluctant._ "Let me see your eyes."

"Fine," Jonny sighed, keeping his eyes closed. He lowered the washcloth that he'd been holding over them.

He could feel Pilot thoroughly looking over his face, then a hand on his chin, tilting his head from side to side. He wanted to say something, but just didn't have the energy to do so. After all, his best offense right now was a good defense and that meant staying quiet for the time being.

"How's your vision?"

"Still on the blurry side," Jonny admitted.

"Huh," Pilot said, then said, "At least you can see. Dizziness? Nausea?"

"Yes – all the lovely side effects of a concussion," Jonny answered.

"Let me know if it gets worse," Pilot said. "Our employer has instructed us that you are to be kept in decent health."

"Gee, after all the trouble y'all went through to bring me here?" Jonny quipped.

"Heh. Enjoy your soup, kid," Pilot said and Jonny could hear him moving away, then the door closing and locking behind him, finally the overhead light shutting off.

Jonny huffed and slowly opened his eyes. The light from the bathroom was enough so he could see the thermos of chicken soup and the crackers. He decided to play it safe and eat some crackers first. If his stomach could handle the crackers, then he figured it would be safe to eat the soup.

* * *

Benton froze at the sound of the voice. He wondered who this person was and what he wanted.

Eriksson and Andrea both turned to see why he had stopped. One look at his stunned face was enough for Eriksson to whip out his cell phone and quickly place a call.

"Who is this?" Benton asked uselessly. He didn't expect this person to just announce an identity after they had gone through so much trouble to remain anonymous.

Eriksson quickly walked away to keep from being overheard. Benton knew in a detached corner that he was making sure that the line trace and wiretaps were already in place on all his phone lines.

"My name, Doctor Quest, is really not important. I am merely a patriot doing my part in order to keep this country safe."

"You have a funny way of showing it," Benton answered.

"I do have something you're looking for, Doctor Quest," the person simply said.

"How do I know that? You could be just a crackpot for all I know," Benton said.

"Haven't you checked your email yet, Doctor Quest?"

"No, I have not. I was more concerned with finding my son and wondering why my best friend's daughter was hurt trying to defend my son from a group of thugs," Benton replied with some heat. He was tired, worried and **so** not in the mood for games.

The voice said nothing in return except for, "Check your email, Doctor Quest, I'll be in touch."

Then there was nothing but silence as the call was disconnected. Benton stood there for a moment, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. He dropped his arms to his sides, closed his eyes and rolled his head back on his shoulders. He took some deep breaths, aware of the concerned gazes of Hadji and Andrea on him. Finally, he pulled his head back forward and opened his eyes to explain the call.

"I take it that was the kidnapper?" Andrea asked, hands on her hips.

"Yes," Benton answered with a nod.

"What did they have to say?" Hadji asked.

"Not much. Just called himself a patriot, told me to check my email and that he'd be in touch."

Eriksson walked back over with a frown evident on his face, "This guy knows what he's doing. Not long enough for a true trace and he's using a scrambler to keep us from pinpointing his location right away."

"Let's not forget the voice modulator," Benton sighed. He almost wished it was Zin they were dealing with. For all of Zin's enmity towards him, the man had always been relatively straightforward in his demands.

"Nothing is ever easy when it comes to our family, I'm afraid," Hadji commented, putting a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, Benton was taken by surprise at how tall Hadji had grown. He could remember a gangly nine year old deflecting a dagger meant for Benton's back.

"Come on, Doctor Quest, let's head back to the hotel. We need to see what they sent to your email," Andrea said, pulling the keys out from her pocket. She hit the lock button twice, verifying the alarm was still set on the range rover, then unlocked it as they approached it.

"That sounds like a good idea," Hadji remarked, using gentle pressure on Benton's shoulder to steer him to the vehicle.

Benton climbed in behind Andrea, Hadji behind Eriksson and they headed back to the hotel. Media vans were camped out on the hotel parking lot, but Benton couldn't see any of their satellite dishes powered up for broadcasting. It was late enough that they had probably gotten all they would out of Whitmore for the day. He couldn't see the NTSB director holding a briefing at this time in the evening.

Andrea pulled around to the back of the hotel and parked.

"We'll just take the elevators up," Eriksson said, getting out of the vehicle. As before, he made sure their path was clear before leading them into the hotel and to the elevators.

Bandit again greeted them at the door, clearly looking for Jonny.

"Sorry, Bandit, not yet," Andrea apologized, bending down to pet him.

Eriksson hung back out of the way, giving Benton and Hadji room to quietly set up their laptops.

Hadji was just slightly faster than Benton, sitting down and booting up his laptop mere moments before Benton had managed to get the electrical power supply connected to his machine.

Eriksson was slightly startled to hear a female voice announce, "Connection established. User Hadji Singh identity confirmed."

Moments later, Benton's laptop echoed, "User Benton Quest identity confirmed."

Benton silently pulled up his email program while Hadji gave vocal commands.

"Iris, can you give me a location for Jonny?"

"Unable to comply," the Quest AI responded. "Jonny's emergency beacon is no longer transmitting."

Everyone frowned at that, and Andrea commented, "I bet they figured out his watch was a homing beacon."

Hadji nodded, "I would say you are right, Andrea." He turned his attention back to his laptop, "Iris, what was the last location you had on Jonny?"

"The last location I had on Jonny was North latitude 38 degrees 57 minutes 59 seconds; west longitude 094 degrees 22 minutes and 30 seconds at the Lee's Summit Municipal Airport."

"Lee's Summit?" Benton asked, waiting on his email to finish downloading.

"Lee's Summit – a suburb of Kansas City, Missouri," Iris answered as Eriksson's eyebrows raised up in surprise.

"Iris is the Quest compound AI," Andrea explained in a quiet undertone to Eriksson. She would have explained more except Benton swore.

It was so unexpected that immediately Eriksson was moving to stand behind Benton to see what happened.

"I see they weren't kidding about sending 'proof,'" Eriksson commented seeing a picture of Jonny on the screen of Benton's laptop. His eyes were bruised and swollen and he was sitting in a bare room with naked concrete walls behind him. "It doesn't look like they've roughed him up too much from Jessie's description."

Benton sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "I should have been expecting this, but still…"

"It's never easy, Doctor Quest," Eriksson counseled. "I'd be feeling the same way if it were one of my kids."

"They sent more than one picture," Benton commented, clicking on the arrow to move to the next image.

Eriksson pulled his phone up and scrolled through the numbers in his address book before he got to the one he wanted. He hit the send button on his phone as he looked at the pictures. They didn't reveal anything about where Jonny was being held, but hopefully there would be some identifying tags in the email they could track. "Hey Mike, it's Chris. We had email contact from the kidnappers."

He paused and said, "Yeah, that's what I wanted to know. What's your email address again?"

He recited it out loud as he scribbled it down on a notepad that Benton set within his reach. "Great, we'll send it right over to you."

Something else was said and Eriksson answered, "I don't think whoever it is will try anything at the hotel. After all, they want something in return – money, goods, services... But, yeah, I've got someone covering the lobby and someone covering the side and back doors."

He paused and listened to something the other person said. ""Yeah, I'll have my cell on. Ang knows that it'll be on 24/7 until we manage to rescue Jonny. Talk to you later."

He hit the end button on the phone and gave his attention back to Benton. "Here's the address to send that email to. Mike's very good at what he does – he'll strip that email down and find the slightest thing that will lead us back to the originating physical address of the sender."

"All right," Benton said as he hit the forward button on this email and then typed in the address.

Andrea turned her attention back to Hadji and asked, "Hadji, what information do you have on the airport?"

Hadji pulled up the information Iris had given him, "It's a commuter airport in the eastern suburbs, it has a tower, so that means a flight plan would have had to have been filed."

"But, flight plans can be falsified," Andrea pointed out. "Or, that could be just a decoy…"

"True," Hadji conceded with a nod. "But, this is what Iris picked up from his emergency beacon. They bounced from Kalispell to several stops – each at airports that don't have a tower and therefore, no need to file a flight plan."

Iris had a map that had Jonny, or his watch, doing a number of hops back and forth across the middle of the country from Kalispell to Denver; to New Mexico to Texas; to Oklahoma to eastern Colorado to Topeka; Kansas, before finally stopping at Lee's Summit.

"So, all these stops could be red herrings and he could still be in Montana," Andrea commented with a frown, studying the map.

"Or, anywhere between," Eriksson commented, seeing the map for himself. He immediately ruled out Jonny still being in Montana. It just didn't seem like the men who'd taken him had planned to stay in Montana longer than it took to locate and grab him. "My gut is telling me that he's not in Montana any more. But, where he is, I'm too tired to hazard a guess right now."

Behind him, he heard Doctor Quest try to smother a yawn.

"I think we all are," Andrea said, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"Why don't we look at this with fresh eyes in the morning with the rest of my team?" he suggested, fighting back the urge to yawn himself. He had been awake for most of the night as well, thinking about the case, when the call had come in, to meet the Quests when their jet had landed. He knew there was a lot of pressure when dealing with such a high profile case, but so far, the higher ups had been leaving him alone, letting him do his job. He guessed that his assistant, a very capable woman named Consuelo, was the one taking the heat for him.

"I think that is an excellent suggestion, Agent Eriksson," Hadji suggested in his oddly formal, yet warm way. "It _was _a long flight from Berlin yesterday."

"Hadji, do you think you could get the stuff Race asked for so I can drop it off at the hospital for him?"

"Most certainly," Hadji said, rising from his seat. He led Eriksson through the adjoining suites to Race's suitcase where he pulled out one of Race's trademark red long-sleeved shirts and his toiletry kit.

"Thanks, Hadji," Eriksson said, accepting the items handed to him.

"Do you want me to forward the information Iris has on Jonny's beacon to your email address?"

"Actually, send it to Consuelo – she's my right hand. She'll distribute it to the team and everyone that needs to know," Eriksson answered, as they headed back over to the other suite. He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Hadji.

"I will do so," Hadji said, accepting the card.

"Doctor Quest, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me, or ask one of the agents on duty. We are here to do everything we can to get your son back," Eriksson assured him, pulling another card out and giving it to Benton.

"I'll be back first thing in the morning to go over this information you have on Jonny's beacon with you and my team. We know that they want something from you and right now, it's in their best interests to keep Jonny alive and unharmed," Eriksson assured him. "I know it doesn't make it any easier, Doctor Quest, but hold on to that thought."

"Thank you, Agent Eriksson. I appreciate your honesty," Benton answered, taking the card and laying it on his laptop. He stood up and walked the FBI agent to the door and shook hands with him as he left.

Eriksson nodded to the agents he had stationed around the hotel as he made his way out to his car. He was heading home to look in on his children and be grateful that they were safe. Then, he'd try to get some sleep in order to take a fresh look at finding Jonny Quest alive in the morning.

* * *

As Hadji prepared the previously promised cup of tea, Benton asked for his thoughts about Jonny.

"What do you think, Hadji?"

"After seeing a map of the city, I think Jonny is there," Hadji calmly answered, pouring the water into the coffee pot. "But where in the region, I cannot say."

"Hmmm, you are probably right," Benton agreed after a moment's thought. "Kansas City is a very large city geographically." He sighed, "I can only hope he is okay…"

"Jonny may rush in without much thought into a situation, but he does have a strong survival instinct," Hadji counseled him, putting the tea bag along with a generous serving of honey into one of the mugs.

"Thank you, Hadji," Benton said, inhaling the aroma of the tea as he looked at the email from Race with Estella's itinerary.

It was not going to be fun making all those connecting flights, but by the time he had gotten one of the Quest Corp pilots to fly down to South America, it wouldn't have saved Estella any time. However, he promised himself, _when_ they got Jonny back, the whole family would accompany Doctor Velasquez back to her dig site. It would be a good escape for everyone – to fade into the jungle until the media blitz about this latest problem died down.

Benton didn't want to talk to the press, but he knew he would have to sooner or later. He typed a reminder note to ask Eriksson about that in the morning. He sipped at the tea while briefly scanning the rest of his email. Many were friends and colleagues offering good wishes and concerns for the fast recovery of Jessie and Jonny from their ordeal. There were a couple of emails from his assistant on some issues that needed his attention, but those he would look at in the morning when he would not be so tired.

He finished the tea and pushed back from his laptop, closing the lid. He looked over to see his elder son staring at his own laptop, still working on his own mug of tea.

"I'm going to try and get some rest while I can, Hadji. Don't stay up too late."

Hadji looked up and said, "Good night, Doctor Quest. I promise, I won't."

Benton smiled briefly and squeezed Hadji's shoulder. He again wondered just when the boy had grown up. He climbed into bed and rolled over onto his side, facing the wall. Almost immediately Bandit curled up in the small of his back. Using the relaxation techniques Hadji had taught him, Benton fell asleep much quicker than he'd thought he would.

Hadji sat at his laptop for a while longer, trying to figure out where the men who had taken Jonny would be keeping him. He typed up some search queries for Iris to run while he slept. His instincts were screaming at him that his brother and best friend was in Kansas City. He just had to have Iris help him narrow it down further. He programmed the AI to run a final search for any identifying markers on the email send to Doctor Quest. He was betting on Iris finding some marker in the email that would help them narrow down Jonny's location. His last commands to the AI were for a visual report to be displayed on both his and Doctor Quest's laptops after she finished her searches.

"Confirmed. Results will be displayed visually," Iris answered.

"Thank you, Iris," Hadji said softly, and looked over to the other bed to see Bandit crack one eye open at him as his adopted father got some much needed sleep.

"Yes Bandit, I'm going to bed now too," Hadji said to the small dog, as he closed his laptop and pushed away from the table. He climbed into his bed and concentrated on his breathing, putting aside his thoughts on Jonny for the time being. Iris would hopefully have some more information for him in the morning.

* * *

Over the Atlantic Ocean, Estella sat in first class, trying to type up notes for the professor who would be taking her place on the dig, but her mind kept wandering back to Jessie. After checking in for her flight, she had called Race again, and this time, had gotten to talk to her daughter. The conversation hadn't been long, since it was clear that her daughter was on the verge of sleep.

Jessie had tried to soothe her mother's ruffled temper, "Don't blame Dad, Mom. You would have done the same thing."

Estella had sighed, wondering again if it wouldn't have been wiser all those years ago to accept a strictly classroom teaching position in the states and keep Jessie at her side.

Jessie's sigh had echoed her mother's as she had gone on to say, "Mom, you wouldn't have survived a strictly classroom position. You would have been miserable, and I would have been miserable because you were. You made the right choice then; stick with it."

"Jessica Louise – "

"I'll be fine, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow when you get here," Jessie interrupted her mother.

Race could be heard in the background: "Jessie, you're supposed to rest, not do all that much talking."

"Yes, Dad," Jessie answered, sounding aggrieved.

"Listen to your father now, Jessie. I'll see you tomorrow night when I get in." Estella smiled, wishing she was there in Montana to hold her daughter.

"Bye, Mom, see you tomorrow," Jessie had said around a yawn and a slight hiss of pain from either her concussion or injury to her cheek, Estella didn't know.

"I love you, Jessie," Estella had said, her voice catching in her throat.

"Love you too, Mom," Jessie had mumbled, and there was a rustling noise as she had handed the phone back to her father.

Estella and Race had continued to chat for a few more minutes until Estella's flight had been called.

She turned her attention back to her notes and tried to concentrate on translating all the information she had in her head into something that her co-worker would be able to understand. She typed out a few more bulletin points before the jet ran into some heavy turbulence. She ignored it at first, concentrating on her work. The sound of the seatbelt light chiming on didn't register at first. Only when the pilot's voice permeated her thoughts, did she pause.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the smooth female voice of the pilot came over the intercom. "I am going to have to ask you to kindly put up your tray tables and please stow any breakables for now. We're going to be skirting some rough air here, and it's going to be bumpy for a bit. We've got a storm front building to our northeast, right in our flight path; I'm working on getting us around it."

Estella sighed, hit save on the current document, and put away her laptop. She closed the tray table and checked to make sure she had her seatbelt secure as the pilot went on to repeat her message in flawless Spanish. A brief glance at the LCD screen showed her that the in-flight movie was nothing she really wanted to see, so she bent over to her backpack once more and this time, drug out her notebook and CD player. She put her headphones on, tucked her CD player in at her side and continued writing where she'd left off, to the sound of Spanish guitars strumming out strong classical dance pieces.

Somewhere along the way, as the pilot fought her way around the edge of the storm front, the strumming of the guitars helped Estella concentrate too much: she transitioned from writing notes when the jumbo jet wasn't bouncing, to sleep. When the plane finally cleared the turbulence about an hour later, the flight attendant found her with her head tilted back against the headrest and pen slack in her right hand.

The flight attendant shook out a blanket and placed it over the weary passenger's lap, capped the pen and put it in the spiral of the notebook for safekeeping. She put the notebook in the empty seat next to Estella and turned off the overhead light. Her task in taking care of that passenger complete, she turned and moved on to collect beverage orders from the handful of first class passengers.


	12. Chapter 12 Red Skies in the Morning?

**Chapter 12 –**

**Red Skies in the Morning?**

Benton was aware of something beeping at him first and when it penetrated his awareness that it was the alarm clock, he opened his eyes to stare in fuzzy disbelief at the display. It was eight am already? He felt like he had just drifted off to sleep… He turned off the alarm and wearily pushed himself upright in the bed.

Then, it occurred to him that the room was absolutely still, except for the whirring of the computer fans. Bandit wasn't even in the room.

For one panicked moment, he thought that the kidnappers had come back and grabbed Hadji. But, as the adrenalin rush cleared away the sleep fog remnants, he immediately dismissed that idea. There was no easy way that they could have by-passed the locks on the door. Then to have gotten past Bandit? Simply not possible.

As logic reasserted itself, he figured that Hadji had probably taken Bandit out for his morning run with Andrea. At least, that's what he hoped, figuring that his oldest son would have the presence of mind to take the bodyguard with him. He leaned over to turn on the light on the nightstand and found the note from Hadji.

He sighed in relief at seeing it – it was as he suspected. He carefully got out of bed, feeling his leg muscles protest the previous day's hard hike. Benton grimaced slightly and began stretching out so he would be able to move about during the day with some ease. He envied Hadji for his determination.

Finishing stretching, Benton took note of the time and debated on calling Phil or Estella first. He decided that Estella would be chomping at the bit, waiting to hear from either him or Race about now. He picked up his mobile phone, checked to see he hadn't missed any calls, and then scrolled through his address book to pull up the correct number for Estella.

He placed the call and after two rings, it was answered by a brisk, "Estella Velasquez."

"Estella, it's Benton."

"Benton! How are you? Have you heard anything? How are Jessie and Race?"

"I'm hanging in there, still trying to figure out what it is this 'patriot' fellow wants," Benton answered on a sigh. "I haven't talked to Race yet, this morning. I wanted to make sure you had gotten through customs all right before I talked to him."

That got a small chuckle out of Estella. "Oh Benton, was this your doing?"

"What do you mean, Estella?"

"There were two very polite young I-1 agents waiting for me as soon as I landed in DC and barely before I could get their names, they whisked me off to customs, where not only did I get to go to the head of the line, but the customs supervisor was there waiting with my visa approval in hand. She barely looked at my passport before stamping it and waving me on my way. Next thing I know, I'm being waited on hand and foot in the VIP lounge and then escorted off to my next flight like some high profile celebrity."

Benton chuckled, "That wasn't me. All I did was ask Phil that you got through customs without trouble."

Estella chuckled, "Well, I guess I can't blame him. He knows better than to get on Race's bad side. Or yours, for that matter."

"How are you otherwise, Estella?"

"Tired, anxious, upset, wishing I could already be there," Estella sighed. "You said something about a 'patriot' holding Jonny?"

"Yes," Benton went onto explain the phone call, followed by the email with the damming photos.

"And, he hasn't contacted you since?"

"Not yet," Benton sighed. "I guess he's giving me time to let those photos sink in."

Estella cursed liquidly in Spanish too fast for Benton to keep up. He got the gist of what she was saying and was glad not to have it directed at him. Taking a breath, she made an effort to reign her temper back in, "Have you gotten an id on the men who took Jonny yet?"

"Jessie gave the officers a pretty detailed description. But considering the numbers of photos they have to run a cross matching search against? It's bound to take a while."

Estella sighed, "That it will. Do you have anything else to go on about why they took Jonny yet?"

"No, not yet," Benton answered.

There was a pause as Estella talked to someone else on the other end.

"It seems they're calling my flight, Benton. I'd better go."

"All right, Estella. I'll see you tonight when you get in," Benton answered.

He turned to see who was at the door when he heard it open. It was Hadji and Andrea returning with one heavily panting Bandit.

"Good luck, Benton. Tell Jessie I love her."

"Thanks, Estella, I will. Have a safe flight."

"Bye, Benton," Estella said, disconnecting.

Benton did the same and turned to greet the returning pair while Bandit greedily slurped at his water. "Did you have a good run?"

"Yes, it helped to work out the kinks from yesterday's hike," Andrea answered.

"Have you heard anything else from this 'Patriot,' yet?" Hadji asked before taking a long drink of water himself.

"No," Benton repeated what he had just told Estella, "Not yet."

Just then, Benton's cell phone went off and again, the display read 'Caller ID unavailable.' Benton sighed and said, "Here we go again."

He took a deep breath and hit the receive button on his phone, "This is Benton Quest."

The muffled voice said, "Ah, good morning, Doctor Quest, did you get my email?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Race sat once again in the chair at his daughter's bedside. He was hungry but decided that could wait until she was in surgery.

Jessie lay on her left side, her right foot still carefully propped up on extra pillows. She hadn't had a comfortable night – half-waking up every time she'd tried to shift, or having the nurse wake her up to do the concussion check.

Now, they were waiting for the surgeons to arrive and say they were ready.

"Aren't you hungry, Dad?" Jessie asked him over her shoulder.

"I figure I'll grab a bite once they take you down to surgery, Ponchita. I didn't think it would be fair to eat in front of you."

Jessie carefully shifted, hissing as all her bruises reminded her of the events of the past two days. After she resettled herself on her back, she sighed.

"I wish they'd hurry up and get here."

"Why's that, Ponchita?"

"Because then I'd be out cold and not feeling all these bruises," Jessie answered, squirming slightly on the bed, trying in vain, to get comfortable.

Race found he couldn't fault her logic. He looked up at a knock on the door to see the morning nurse accompanying a doctor.

"Mr. Bannon, this is Dr. Chan – he's the anesthesiologist for your daughter's surgery this morning," the nurse made the introductions.

"Race Bannon, good to meet you," Race shook hands with the Asian doctor.

"Mr. Bannon," the doctor answered. "I've come to talk with you and your daughter about this morning's procedure and to ask some questions of your daughter."

"All right," Race acknowledge with a nod.

Dr. Chan moved over to Jessie's side as she settled into a more upright position.

He proceeded to ask the usual questions about past surgical experiences, drug allergies, current medications – anything that could cause complications with the anesthesia. At the end of the conversation, he checked his watch and promised he would return shortly. He shook hands with Jessie and Race before leaving.

Benton, Hadji and Andrea, accompanied by Eriksson arrived shortly after that.

Race took one look at his friend's face to know that something else had happened.

"What's wrong, Benton?" he quietly asked, seeing that Jessie was safely occupied in a conversation with Hadji and Andrea.

"They sent photos, Race," Benton answered curtly, running a hand over his head, bracing it at the back of his neck for a moment before letting it drop back to his side.

"How bad, Benton?"

Benton sighed, "In reality, not that bad, but…"

"…seeing photographic evidence and not being able to do a damn thing about it? Pretty damn frustrating if you ask me." Race shook his head. "What does this person want anyway?"

"'Patriot,'" Benton said the word as if it were a curse, "as he's calling himself, had decided that he needs _my_ help in making the country safer for democracy."

"Oh great," Race snarled. "What a good way he has for asking for your help."

Benton smiled grimly.

The men paused to hear Hadji say, "You were right about Jonny, Jessie. He really can't see very well right now, can he?"

Jessie frowned "I told you, Hadji."

"Yes, but seeing Jonny with raccoon eyes was quite a sight," Hadji countered.

"You saw him?" Jessie asked, hitting the controls to sit up straight.

"Yes," was the answer.

"How? Where? Is he all right? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Jessie demanded, forgetting that she was supposed to be resting and not talking.

Her eyebrows rose dramatically up her forehead and she started to say something but Race cut her off with a simple, "Ponchita."

Jessie stopped, looked at her dad who shook his head. She flushed guiltily, dropped her gaze to the blanket bunched at her waist. "Sorry, Dad."

The nurse came in at that point and said, "It's time to move you down to pre-op, Miss Bannon."

Jessie sighed and Race didn't know if it was relief or nervous anticipation. His daughter could be awfully hard to read sometimes.

The nurse helped Jessie make the transition to the gurney, carefully protecting the injured ankle, while the orderly helped her slide her upper body over while protecting the IV line in the back of her right hand.

"You'll be back here before you know it, Miss Bannon," the nurse said, understanding Jessie's sudden apprehension.

"It's okay, Jessie honey, I'll be here when you get back," Race assured his daughter with a gentle squeeze on her right shoulder.

"Sure thing, Dad," Jessie answered, swallowing nervously.

"Remember what you said earlier, Ponchita? You'll be asleep and not feeling any pain."

"Yeah, right," Jessie gave him a small, weak smile and let the orderly push her out of the room.

"It is a relatively straightforward procedure, Mr. Bannon," the nurse assured Race.

"I know, I know," Race sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It's always hard when it's your child involved. I understand completely," the nurse said, watching the guard at the door fall into line with the orderly.

"Come on, Race, we might as well go get some coffee while we wait for Jessie to come back," Benton suggested.

"Yeah, coffee sounds good about now," Race answered.

The group filed out and headed for the cafeteria where Race waited to ask his questions until he had a tray of food and a fresh cup of coffee at hand.

"Still no luck in tracing the calls?" he asked after Benton had filled him in on the details.

"None yet," Benton answered.

"Heard anything more from the NTSB people?"

"Whitmore wants me to be there for his next press briefing," Benton frowned, his distaste for the NSTB coordinator leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Race looked to Eriksson and asked, "What's your take on this? Think Whitmore has anything real to say yet?"

"I tend to believe not – except for maybe the plane's emergency beacons not broadcasting on the right frequency," Eriksson said with a shrug. "But, that is something he's supposed to tell me before he goes to the press with it. Whitmore may very well be an ass, but he is a stickler for protocol."

"Do you have any contacts on his team?" Race asked shrewdly.

With a sly look, Eriksson answered, "Now, why would I need to do that?"

"Because Whitmore is a pompous windbag?" Race questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Exactly," Eriksson agreed with a grin and pulled out his phone to scroll through his contact list. Finding the number, he hit connect and waited for an answer. "Hey Calvin, it's Chris."

The group at the table listened to Eriksson's side of the conversation.

"Yeah. That's what I'm calling about. Have you gotten anything back on the emergency beacon yet?"

Eriksson paused and listened to what the person on the other end had to say. "Well, good timing, on my part."

Calvin must have made some disparging remarks about his boss, for Eriksson nodded and answered, "Yeah, that's what I suspected. He's already got the press conference set up – probably left a voice mail at the office, knowing that I wouldn't pick it up until too late to stop him."

Calvin said something that Eriksson found surprising, "The beacon transponders were changed? How would they do that?" I didn't think that was accessible."

Ersksson listened while his contact explained.

"Huh, well, yeah... that would explain it. Did you get any data from the plane's maintenance log?"

He waited for the answer, "You did? Great. So, does that match up with the report from Jessie Bannon?"

Calvin must have agreed with him for Eriksson sat back and said, "Perfect. Yeah, after I listened to her report, I was pretty sure it wasn't a natural mechanical failure. Great, Calvin, thanks."

The next comment had Eriksson grinning, "Yeah, I know, I owe you. Dinner at Momma Campizzi's is on me. Thanks again. Yeah, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

With a grim, but satisfied smile, he ended the call and put his phone back on his belt.

"Well?" Andrea asked.

"Well, I have to say that the preliminary report does indicate that the crash was mechanical failure and not caused in any shape or form by pilot error. The maintenance logs show that the thermostats in both engines checked out just fine, before Jessie left Maine to come out to California. They're still reviewing the audio and instrumentation logs from the black box, but like I said, the preliminary report is that the kids did everything exactly the way they should, by the numbers."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jonny opened his eyes to the sound of someone at the door. His sight was still practically non-existent and it was beyond old, it was worrying in delaying his plans to work on escaping.

"Shield your eyes, kid," announced the pilot's voice. "Lights coming on."

"Yeah, yeah," Jonny answered, slowly sitting up with his eyes closed. His stomach did a loop-de-loop before settling back down. Yeah, another fun side effect of the concussion. He heard the clatter of a tray being set down on the end table next to the cot.

"How's the head?"

"More or less attached," was the grudging answer.

"How's the stomach?" Pilot asked next.

"Not too bad – still kinda nauseas," Jonny answered. "So, how come you're my babysitter? What happened to Thing 1 and Thing 2?"

"The chief knows his team's strengths and patience isn't one of theirs."

"That's an understatement," Jonny snorted.

"Let me do the pupil check, kid, to make sure you don't have anything else going on."

"Oh great," Jonny answered, slowly opening his swollen eyes on a hiss as the light hit his still sensitive pupils.

Pilot flashed a pen light into each eye, checking pupil responses.

"So, what exactly am I being held for this time?" Jonny asked. "Ransom for what?"

"Couldn't tell ya' kid," Pilot answered, "The boss doesn't tell us and we don't ask too many questions."

"Oh great," Jonny couldn't keep the sarcastic bite from his voice. "You mean, I've actually been taken by someone who isn't gloating about their grand plans? Well, that's a switch."

"You're weird, kid," Pilot commented.

"Comes with the territory," Jonny answered. "Invariably, the Evil Bad Guy of the Week will have to posture and make some grand statement about what his Evil Plans are. I think it's in the 'How to be an Evil Overlord' rule book."

Pilot snorted and then said, "There's oatmeal and hot water for tea on the tray along with tea packets and sweeteners."

Hot water sparked another question, "Hey, what am I supposed to do for clean clothes in the mean time? I'd like to take a shower, but don't want to put back on the same dirty clothes."

"I think something can be arranged," Pilot said.

"Good," Jonny said, shielding his eyes once more from the overhead light.

Pilot retreated without further comment, locking the door behind him once more.

Jonny found that the smell of the oatmeal didn't set his stomach to churning. He sweetened it to his taste with one of the honey packets he'd found on the tray and slowly ate, letting his stomach get used to more solid food. He set the oatmeal aside after a few bites and peered closely at the tea packets before deciding on one.

Once again, he cursed his luck over his eyes. He needed to get out of here, so he could get word to his family and find out about Jessie. The rescuers had to have found her by now. He wondered how badly they had hurt her. He did some mental calculations on the time line from when the thugs had first approached to when he'd been captured. He didn't _think _there'd been enough time for the thugs to, well, as much as he was afraid to even think about it – rape Jessie but he wouldn't rule out the possibility. Logic told him, he'd been the primary target and Jessie had just been in the way. But still, the fear remained.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The leg from Dulles to Kennedy was smooth and Estella was again whisked off to her next flight by a set of polite I-1 agents. She hit the ground running and was upgraded to first class on the leg from Kennedy to Denver. Questioning her security escort in New York, confirmed her conversation with Benton about why she had them.

"Director Corbin's orders, Doctor Velasquez. The media is looking to talk to anyone involved in the crash kidnapping. They may not be able to get your flight itinerary directly, but there are only a few points where South American flights enter into the US."

"They're camping out in hopes for a sound bite or two?" Estella asked, seeing Phil's logic.

"Yes, Doctor," the other agent said.

"Well, I will have nothing to say until I see my daughter, and even then, I doubt much of what I will have to say will be publishable," Estella said grimly.

The agents' smiles and the answer from one of them was, "And, as a mother, you can get away with it..."

"Exactly," Estella nodded.

Then, it was time for her and her escort to head off to her next flight. The agents took their leave as she boarded the plane, wishing her good luck for the rest of her journey.

The flight started fine, but the weather became absolutely foul over the Great Lakes. The winds were trying to swat the jet liner around like it was merely a toy.

The pilot came on and announced, "Sorry for the bumpy ride, folks. We're going to divert south a ways here to get around this storm front that's got the northern plains socked in. Hopefully we'll be out of this within the next half hour. Until then, I'm going to have to ask that everyone remain seated and buckled in. Flight attendants, please make sure the cabin is secure and take your seats. I'll turn off the seat belt sign once we're clear."

Estella sighed. Well, it was only to be expected – after all, the same storm front was what had hit the kids just the other day. It was too bumpy to try and do any further writing for the class plan at the moment and instead, got out the latest issue of Archeology Today her housekeeper had set aside for her. Maybe there'd be an interesting article or two to help her pass the time as she checked her watch.

At the moment, it seemed a good thing that she had an hour and a half layover in Denver – it looked like she was going to need it with this weather. She made a note to check in with Race when she landed – she wanted to know how Jessie's surgery went.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In New York, the Patriot checked in with the Chief of Operations.

"How is the Package this morning?"

Chief had watched the exchange between Pilot and their guest before heading up to the surface to take his employer's phone call. "Getting mouthy, sir, but looks like appetite is returning."

"Yes, mouthiness is to be expected, after all," Patriot said. He had met the Quest group once before at a political function. He had overheard young Mister Quest's fairly accurate description of a congressman who was known to be in the pocket of the petroleum industry. The younger member of the Quest family was not as politic as his father.

"How long will we be holding the Package, sir?"

"That remains to be seen still. Negotiations are going slowly," Patriot answered.

"That's only to be expected. Well, we're here for the long haul. I don't anticipate much trouble with the crew," Chief answered.

"Good. I trust that you have chosen people who can handle the wait?"

"They understand that if they don't, there will be no pay off," Chief answered.

"Very well then. I'll be in touch as the situation changes," Patriot said, wrapping up the call.

"Yes, sir. Same here," Chief answered and then hit the end button on the call. He looked up at the blue sky dotted with puffy white cumulus clouds for a moment before turning and heading back inside. The day was heating up and the air was thick with humidity again, charging the atmosphere for another batch of storms.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the hospital, Eriksson discussed his theories on possible locations of the man who was calling himself 'Patriot.'

"So far, we haven't been able to trace his calls back to point of origin – he's using a scrambler to hide his point of origin and the phone is probably one of those pre-paid throw-away type phones – even if we were to get the phone number, it's more than likely it still wouldn't be him directly who bought the phone."

Race wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and nodded in agreement. "This guy would be too smart for that."

"Exactly. While we may not have his location nailed down, I have my suspicions about him – I'd say he's east coast, well educated and has money – you have to have money to pull this off."

"Why east coast?" Andrea asked. Everyone figured on the money factor.

"Nine eleven – the terrorist activity all impacted the east coast and all the political movers and shakers – they tend to congregate near DC. So, if he's not in DC directly, I would say either Virginia, Baltimore, Boston, or New York."

"New York's not exactly close to DC..." Benton said thoughtfully.

"But, it was affected by the attacks – the twin towers," Eriksson clarified. "And, JFK to Regan is just a short shuttle flight."

"True," Benton conceded.

He was quiet, trying to think of anyone he'd met who could be that met that profile who would be capable of something like this.

"The amount of people we've met who fit that profile is just..."

"It may not even be somebody you even really met, Dr. Quest. It could have just been a handshake at some event or another." Eriksson shook his head. "Somehow, I think that 'Patriot' doesn't like to call attention to himself. He likes to keep a front between himself and everyone else he deems as beneath him. Mind you, this is all speculation on my part..."

"However, it does make a certain amount of sense," Hadji finished the sentence for the FBI agent.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Estella's flight into Denver was late, later than the pilot had figured in for the weather, much to her dismay. She landed with only minutes to catch her next flight. She gathered up her stuff and hustled off the plane only to have an airline employee and another intelligence agency person awaiting her as soon as she stepped foot into the terminal.

"Dr. Velasquez?" the airline employee questioned.

"Si, yes," Estella answered.

"We're here to make sure you get to your next flight. They're almost done boarding, but are holding for you." the agent said.

"Let's go then," Estella said, gearing up for a mad dash through the airport.

The pair led her to a golf cart equipped with lights, siren and bullhorn. "Have a seat and hold on ma'am. We'll get you to your next flight in no time."

The airline employee was true to her word and took off at a fast clip, using the lights and horn to clear a path of travel for them.

Soon, her boarding pass was handed off to the gate agent and scanned into the system while the other gate agent waited to close the ramp door behind Estella. The flight attendant checked Estella's boarding pass before directing her to her seat in the second row.

"Please go ahead and take your seat, Doctor as we'll be taxiing in just a few moments," the woman directed.

"All right, thank you," Estella said breathlessly, doing that and stowing her two carry-on bags under the seat in front of her.

Then, they were buttoning up the plane and getting ready for take-off. Estella sighed and figured she'd have the airline emergency procedures spiel memorized by the time she landed in Helena that evening after hearing it five times in a twenty-four hour period. There was something to be said for flying on a private and/or chartered jet – she got to skip that part.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, how long before the media descends on us here?" Andrea asked, having switched from coffee to iced tea as the morning wore on and they waited out Jessie's surgery in the cafeteria.

"I would suspect this afternoon – there are only so many hospitals in the city," Erikssson answered.

Benton sighed, coming to an unwelcome conclusion. It was better to go ahead and talk to the media before the stories and speculations got out of hand.

He looked at Race who nodded, "It's best to get the right, real story out there."

"I know you don't like talking to the media, Doctor Quest," Eriksson stated.

"However, it's needed in this case and might work to our advantage here."

"Exactly. Let's blitz the media and turn it against this 'Patriot,'" Eriksson extended the line of thought. "Someone somewhere out there has to have seen Jonny and if we can get him away from Patriot's men, then we take away his bargaining power."

"True," Benton acknowledged. "So, when do we want to do this?"

"The hotel this afternoon after Jessie is out of her surgery. That will keep the media ghouls away from here, but still answer their need for information – what little we have for them so far."

Race nodded, "Sounds good to me."

"And me," Benton said after a moment's thought.

"Do you want to say anything about Jessie?" Eriksson asked Race.

"I'll let the Doc do the talking. I'm staying here until Estella arrives," Race stated, with a nod to Benton.

"All right, I'll call my assistant, Consuela and have her get the ball rolling on this. She's better at handling the media than I am," Eriksson said, pulling out his cell phone.

The rest of the morning passed almost too slow for Race and it was closer to the end of the lunch serving time in the cafeteria before they moved back up to the surgery waiting room for news on how Jessie's operation went. Finally close to one in the afternoon, the surgical nurse came out to talk to them.

"Mr. Bannon, I'm Suzanne Moore, the OR nurse. I just wanted to let you know that your daughter is out of surgery and is settled in the recovery unit. Dr. Kelpas is just reviewing the post surgery scans and will be up to talk with you shortly," the nurse said, introducing herself as she stepped into the waiting area.

"Thanks. How did everything go?"

"It went fine and your daughter will probably be moved back to her room within the hour as soon as she wakes up from the anesthesia," the nurse in her turquoise colored scrubs assured him with a gentle smile.

With a nod, she turned and went back to her duties.

A few minutes later, the surgeon, Dr. Kelpas arrived with a handful of printouts.

"Mr. Bannon," he said as they shook hands.

"Doctor."

"Why don't we sit down and I can explain what all we repaired on your daughter's ankle?"

"Sure," Race answered, sitting down and the rest of the group sat down around them.

The surgeon showed the pre-op images first and pointed out the damage. He shuffled the image to the bottom of the stack and next showed a post-op image. "Now, you see here, we had to use a screw to attach the ligament back to the bone here - "

"Is the screw permanent?" Race asked.

"It is for now – it's titanium and the body sees it as bone cells to be broken down and rebuilt into new bone cells. Eventually, it will be broken down, but long after it's no longer needed," was the answer.

Hadji and Benton seemed to understand it a lot more, Race could see. However, they kept their peace and let the surgeon continue.

"We then reconnected the torn tissue at the muscular end as you can see here," the scan image showed the repaired tissue.

"So, what are we looking at for recovery time here?"

"We'll start the PT within a few days here and after that, within six weeks, the ankle should be back to normal," the surgeon stated. "I see no problems for a full recovery after the physical therapy. It's a nasty injury, but your daughter is young, extremely fit and from what I've been told, a very determined individual. Those factors will make all the difference in her recovery."

"Determined, yes," Hadji said quietly, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Hadj," Race shot a sideways glance to the young man who had landed in nearly as much trouble as Jonny and Jessie from the moment he had become a part of their lives.

Hadji had a serene expression on his face, belying the sharp humor just below the surface.

The surgeon finished his briefing by letting them know it wouldn't be too much longer before Jessie was moved from recovery back to her room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jonny was bored. He couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to read, even if he did have something to read. The goons hadn't allowed him to have any reading material – figuring to keep him in the dark quite literally about his situation. The only contact he had was when the pilot would bring him food and again, do a check of his eyes.

"It's not like I could possibly get a radio or TV signal down here, but seriously? Can't I at least get _something_ to listen to? The silence is deafening and I'm dieing of boredom," Jonny asked of the pilot.

"I'll see what I can do," the pilot answered, promising nothing.

Jonny ate the light lunch, then wet the wash cloth with cold water again and lay back down with it over his eyes. It didn't take long before he fell asleep again from sheer boredom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jessie was still groggy when wheeled back into her room, the nurse and orderly smoothly moving her back to the bed and making sure her ankle was bolstered before her family surrounded her.

"Welcome back, Jessie honey," Race took the hand without the IV. "How do you feel?"

"Kinda floaty still," she answered, then yawned. "Sleepy. Do you think I can sleep now without the nurses constantly waking me up?"

"I think so, Ponchita," Race replied.

"Good, because I really want to sleep some more," Jessie said around another yawn.

"Get some sleep and probably by the time you wake up, your mom will be here."

Jessie made a face at that, "How mad is she?"

"Not mad, just worried about you," Race assured her.

That earned him a disbelieving look. "When is she getting in again?"

"Around seven pm this evening," Race told her.

"Don't let me sleep that long. I'll never be able to sleep tonight, if I do," Jessie made a face as she settled deeper into her pillows.

Hadji stifled a chuckle at his friend's statement. He had no doubt she would be on her feet in no time. When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, he knew it was time to leave.

Eriksson stepped in the doorway, "Doctor Quest?"

The scientist nodded before turning back to Race, "This shouldn't take that long. Do you want us to bring you back anything?"

Race shook his head, "Nah, I'm good. Thanks anyway, Benton."

The group departed for the time being, heading back for the hotel and the press conference. They slipped in via the back door once more and it was Andrea who took Bandit out for a quick walk.

Hadji sat down at his laptop and with Eriksson's permission, linked in a web cam conference with one of the agents who was working on the back trace of Patriot's point of origins for his calls. What followed was more tech speak than Eriksson could follow and he was no slouch when it came to computers.

Both the agent and Hadji did some creative cursing as they worked. In the end, they were able to track the call to New York city before it was time to go downstairs for the press conference. The agent promised to keep working on it to try and get the cell towers, if not the actual GPS location of the phone.

In the elevator going back down to the lobby, Benton fought to keep from clenching his jaw. It was a lead and one he had to be careful how he and Eriksson presented it to the press. He was going on the offensive but he wasn't doing so blindly. He had been lost in grief all those years ago when Rachel had died and he wasn't ready to go back to that dark hole again. He was going to fight back and his first step was to get the media on his side.

He let Eriksson take the podium first, still thinking on what he was going to say. The reporters were full of questions but were waiting until Eriksson finished his statement.

The first one to shoot to their feet was a female reporter in a red blazer. "Agent Eriksson, Cynthia Chang – Headline News, so what you're saying is this wasn't an accident at all was it?"

"That's correct, Cynthia – the plane _was_ deliberately sabotaged to bring it down," Eriksson nodded.

A dark haired older gentleman with sprinkles of gray in his hair in a blue sports coat stood up next at the acknowledgment.

"Michael Harris – NTN. What was the goal in the plane crash? Terrorism? Corporate sabotage?"

Benton stepped up to the podium after getting the nod from Eriksson. "Economic terrorism, plain and simple, under the guise of being 'patritotic.'"

That got the media corp stirred up and questions were being shouted rapid fire from them, overlapping each other, all demanding answers first.

Benton pointed to a female reporter with blond hair that he remembered from an interview in the past, "Go ahead, Donna."

"Thank you, Doctor Quest. Now, what do you mean by terrorism disguised as patriotism?"

"Just that – the person behind the plane crash, the abduction of my son and the assault on Ms. Jessica Bannon claims he is a 'patriot.'"

"You've had contact with them?" was the next rapid fire question from another reporter.

"Yes, there has been phone contact that the FBI has traced to New York City," Benton acknowledged and pointed to a reporter wearing a polo with a logo for a local station.

"Richard Corson, KMTA, NBC 5 – with regards to Miss Bannon, we heard that she was medievaced down from Eagle Ridge. Can you tell us her status?"

"Yes, I have been asked by her family to explain her condition and beyond that, no attempts to contact them. Instead, focus your attention on this 'patriot' and finding my son, Jonny." Benton was fierce. He wanted the pressure turned up on 'patriot.' "In trying to keep the kidnappers from taking Jonny, Ms. Bannon suffered a concussion, a hairline fracture of her right cheekbone and a tearing of the muscles and ligaments in her right ankle, which required surgery this morning to repair."

That quieted the press corp for a moment as they took all that in. They shouted more questions at him and he took a minute to sort through them before pointing to another female reporter.

"Robbie Martinez with AP – Doctor Quest, what demands has the kidnapper made? Money? Technology? Information?"

"A combination – he wants technology for information," Benton said, giving them enough of the answer in order for the smarter members of the media to figure it out.

More questions were fired at him and after looking to Eriksson who merely turned his wrist to show his watch, Benton nodded. Time to wrap it up. But first, he had to throw the bait out there. "Because of the economic damage not only to this country, but to the world at large, I am offering a reward for the _safe return _of my younger son, Jonathon Benton Quest. The money is nothing so long as I get my son back and we stop this 'Patriot' from getting what he wants. Therefore, I am offering twenty million dollars for the _safe return _of Jonny."

As expected, the press corp erupted into a roar of questions. Benton ignored them and last the furor die down before trying to speak again.

"If anyone has any information on the whereabouts of my son in conjunction with the sketches of the men directly involved in the kidnapping as provided by the FBI, please contact them via the tip line. Again, let me state that this reward is for the _safe return_ of my son. Thank you."

Benton stepped back from the podium, ignoring the frenzied questions being shouted at him. Eriksson stepped forward once more and held up a hand for the media to quiet down. It took a few moments, but they got the idea when Eriksson said nothing.

"For anyone who hasn't seen the sketches of the men involved, please take a look at the board here. Most of you should have received electronic copies by now, if not, get in touch with my assistant Consuela and she will see to it you get them.

"Thank you for coming this afternoon and once again, we encourage anyone with any valid information on the whereabouts of Jonathon Benton Quest to call the toll free tip line. We want to see this young man safely reunited with his family. And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes our press briefing. Any other questions can be submitted in writing to my assistant Consuela."

The media grumbled and tried to call out more questions to the group as they turned and left with Andrea in the lead followed by Hadji, then Benton with Eriksson covering them from behind.

Once back upstairs, Benton sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Now to see if Patriot's men are so loyal to him now with the money on the line."

"You do know that often times more false information is called in than anything real when it comes to rewards like that?" Eriksson counseled.

"I realize that and in reality, the reward money is only a distraction. I have faith that somehow, Jonny will find a way to free himself or that the combined forces of I-1, the FBI and the local police will find him unharmed." Benton's face showed his resolve.

"We're working on it, Doctor Quest, we're working on it. Every police department in the US has BOLOs out on the composite sketches. Sooner or later we _will _find them." Eriksson answered, grateful for the trust being placed in him.


	13. Chapter 13 Reward Vs Ransom

**Cross Country Quest:**

**Chapter 13 – Reward vs. Ransom**

In his office, Patriot sat down at his desk, one meeting with his board safely accomplished – the fools who thought they were wolves were nothing more than sheep. He was the wolf and none of them, except for his right hand man, Douglas Morrow, had any idea what he was doing.

Morrow had the contacts to the people he had needed for what he had undertaken as a way to protect the US where the government wouldn't and couldn't do so. The members of his board certainly didn't have the backbone to do anything more than lick his boots.

It was time to place a call to the 'storage experts' as Morrow had called them and see how the storage of the 'package' was going before he placed another call to Doctor Quest and see how cooperative the man was now after having more time to absorb the shock value of the photos.

First, it was time to check out the stock prices – he wanted to see if the price for Quest Corp was dropping with the news of the kidnapping, figuring on using that as more leverage to bring Doctor Quest around to his way of thinking. After all, the man was accountable to his stockholders in the end and he would have to cave to the pressure from them if he wanted to keep his position as head of Quest Corp. He pulled up the stock price tracking website he had bookmarked and saw that not only was the price for Quest Corp not down, it had soared through the roof – it was listed as a solid buy and at the rate it was going, would soon have doubled its opening price. That wasn't what he had expected at all – the price of the stock should be going down with Benton Quest's attention being taken away from the company. The man was a scientist and had no business running a large corporation anyway, to Patriot's way of thinking.

Frowning, he turned on the large Plasma screen TV on the wall opposite his desk to one of the twenty-four hour news network to find out what was going on. It was a commercial break, but there was a scroll of news bulletins running at the bottom of the screen. He looked to see what could be causing the stock prices to jump. "Dr. Benton Quest offers large reward for safe return of kidnapped son Jonathon – stay tuned for details."

Patriot cursed. This was not the response he expected at all. Quest would do anything to get back his son, especially after the murder of his wife all those years ago. But, this, this was beyond belief.

The commercial break ended and the useless figureheads who read the news were back. "Thank you for tuning in to ZNN for this breaking news update. Doctor Benton Quest, head of Quest Corporation International has held a press conference to discuss the plane crash and subsequent kidnapping of his son Jonathon. For more details, we'll be taking you live to Cynthia Chang in Helena, Montana. Cynthia, you want to give us the details?"

"Yes, Richard, certainly. Doctor Quest, accompanied by the FBI Special Agent in Charge Christopher Eriksson, announced what they've learned so far in the investigation of why the Quest Corporate jet crashed – it was deliberate sabotage. It was arranged by an unidentified suspect who is calling himself a 'Patriot' and this person has also kidnapped Doctor Quest's son, Jonathon."

"So, you're telling me this was a kidnapping from the start?" Richard asked, his expression

incredulous.

"Yes, it was, Richard. The FBI has labeled the person behind this as a domestic terrorist and with the backing of Doctor Quest, a twenty million dollar reward is being offered for the safe return of Jonathan Quest and the capture of this person calling themselves 'Patriot.'" Cynthia reported.

"Did I hear you correctly, Cynthia? Twenty million dollars?"

"You did indeed, Richard. Doctor Quest is fronting the money himself for the safe return of his son," the sharp eyed reporter answered.

With a snarl Patriot turned off the television and hurled the remote across the room. Damn Quest! Where did the man get off thinking that he could get away with this whole reward thing? Angry that the good doctor didn't seem to be cooperating like he should, Patriot paced his office. Quest was supposed to buckle under the threat to his one and only son and do what he was told to do. However, it seemed like the good doctor had more spine than he originally thought and had decided to play poker and up the ante. Well, the handling team had been handsomely paid for their services and were adept at disappearing after a job was done or if the situation went south and they had to move out in a hurry. He had done his research on them before deciding to hire them.

He paced plotting what his next move would be. He wanted to call Quest and tell him what a mistake he had just made, but he couldn't. Not yet. He wanted more information from the team before he made another phone call to Quest to tell him he would meet the bet and raise it. Knowing he had to be careful with using the cell phone, he wouldn't make the necessary calls from the office. In fact, it was just about time to head up to the Hamptons for the weekend.

"Sir?" his secretary's voice came from the speaker phone.

"Yes?"

"Your driver just called – he's in the parking garage, if you're ready to go."

"Thank you. Tell him I'll be ready in a few minutes," Patriot walked back to his desk, his temper buried and plotting his next moves.

"Yes sir."

Patriot powered down his laptop and with his notes from the afternoon's meeting, put them in his briefcase and a file on a takeover bid that Morrow had given to him as his next target – a smaller company, but they did do similar work to the Quest Corporation. He would decide what to do with them after he reviewed the file and saw how they measured up. One last look around his office, seeing nothing out of place, he headed for the door. He would have plenty of time on the road to correct the situation.

***~RAJQ~***

When Pilot returned again, he was carrying bags from one of the super stores. One bag had various items of clothing, another underwear and socks and the third, an MP3 player and ear buds.

"There's music loaded on it and extra charged rechargeable batteries in case you wear the ones in it out. Clothing should be the right size."

"Thanks," Jonny said. "So, what's the score? Has your boss said what his next move is going to be yet? Because, I can pretty much guarantee my dad's not going to cooperate with whatever he has in mind."

"Chief hasn't said anything yet, but your old man has certainly stirred up a hornet's nest in the media." was the answer Jonny got.

"And did you expect anything less?" Jonny countered.

Pilot shrugged, "It's not my job to worry about it – not until Chief says so." He shrugged, "I can disappear easily enough – a small amount of cash in the right hands and people forget your face."

He handed over the bags and said, "Clothes and music, Kid. Dinner will be in a few hours."

Jonny took them, investigating the contents as Pilot left him again, locking the door behind him. Now he could get cleaned up, but the amount of clothing didn't bode well for the length of time he was going to be stuck there. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom, looking forward to being able to shower.

***~RAJQ~***

Estella sighed with relief that the leg from Denver to Billings went smoothly and the flight landed with time enough for her to catch her breath and breathe easy for a short time before heading off for the final leg of her marathon trip from Argentina. The agents assigned for babysitting duty for her escorted her to the premium lounge.

She gratefully accepted a fresh, cool bottle of water and a salad from the lounge attendant, knowing there would be no food on the last flight and no time to eat when she landed finally in Helena in a few hours time.

She asked the agents, "Is there any news on what happened?"

The agents shook their heads and the senior agent of the pair, a striking woman of African-American descent shook her head. "No ma'am. Not really. We don't know the ids of the suspects yet – the sketches are still being run through the facial recognition programs and any on-line law enforcement database with no luck yet. Beyond that, we don't know much more than what Dr. Quest and Agent Eriksson told the press while you were in the air from Denver."

Estella blinked. "Benton talked to the press?" She was surprised that he had and that no one had tried to suggest to him it might be a bad idea or to try and control more of what he said.

"Yes, and he stirred up a storm in the press corps. He offered up an outrageous reward and turned the spotlight back on this 'Patriot' fellow."

"That would certainly throw the media into a feeding frenzy," Estella said after she finished another bite of the salad. She was tempted to call Benton and ask him exactly what had happened, but she would be able to ask him in person in just a few hours. She pulled her phone out of her bag, powering it up to get the local time and to see if she had any voice mails from Race on Jessie's surgery. Sure enough, the phone beeped at her moments after it finished powering up and locking onto a cell tower, indicating she had voice mail.

"Hi 'Stella – just wanted to let you know Jessie made it through her surgery just fine and is back in her room, resting. Talked to the surgeon and he went over the work they did..." here he paused and sighed heavily. "God, Estella... Anyway, I'll see you tonight when you get in. Andrea Agrotera will be picking you up at the airport. You can't miss her." Here he chuckled. "Hadji might be with her, in case you do miss her."

He ended the call and Estella deleted the message. Everything else could wait until after she'd seen Jessie with her own eyes. She finished her salad just as the lounge attendant passed the word on that they were getting ready to board the flight into Kallispell. Estella sighed with relief and anticipation that her time trapped in an airplane was almost at an end.

***~RAJQ~***

After the press conference, Hadji was back in front of his laptop and with IRIS' help, had narrowed down definitively that the calls had originated in New York city. With no voice modification software in her mainframe, she was limited in stripping away the modulations, it was taking more time than Benton wanted.

It was no surprise when Benton's phone went off as he stood back and watched Hadji work. He looked at the phone before answering and as he expected, it read, 'Caller ID Unavailable.'

"Patriot?" Eriksson asked.

"More than likely," Benton answered. He hit the send button on his phone, "Benton Quest."

This time, the garbled voice on the other end came through with a different pitch. "I heard about your press conference, Doctor Quest. I would never have figured you for a poker player."

The voice had an edge to it that couldn't be hidden with the distortion.

Benton looked at Hadji who mouthed, "New phone," before he turned back to his laptop and typing out commands to the Quest compound AI, IRIS.

"Then you don't know me very well. I'm not bluffing. I will do anything within legal means to get my son back," Benton replied scathingly. "I've been threatened by worse people and you've yet to impress me."

"I'm not a criminal, Doctor Quest..."

Benton cut him off, his temper beginning to fray. "Not a criminal? You bring down a plane, kidnap my son, grievously injure my friend's daughter in the process and hold my son ransom in order for me to hand over lock, stock and barrel, the Quest computer system? Among other things, which you're doing is called domestic terrorism."

"No, Doctor Quest, I'm trying to keep the country safe from terrorism," Patriot snarled in response.

"By becoming one yourself! No, whoever you are, Patriot, let me assure you, you are anything but a patriot." Benton barreled on.

"Someone has to keep the country safe, Doctor Quest. Our government doesn't realize that there is a growing threat of another terrorist attack from within – sleeper cells waiting for the right word to activate."

Benton wanted to reach through the phone and strangle the arrogant bastard. "Be that as it may, you're no better than the foreign terrorists with your actions."

"I would love to continue this conversation, Doctor Quest, however, I don't need your FBI friends cracking the encryptions I have in place on this phone. We'll talk again soon, Doctor Quest," Patriot said smugly as he disconnected the call.

Benton took several deep breaths to release the head of steam Patriot's phone call had brought close to boiling over. He looked to Hadji who shook his head.

"I am sorry, Doctor Quest, he had the call bouncing off too many satellites to trace back to its point of origin when you were talking to him."

Benton exhaled heavily. Damn it, there had to be a way to track this man.

"IRIS is working on it. She will be able to trace the point of origin," Hadji assured him.

"I know Hadji, I know. Waiting for answers has almost never been so hard." Benton admitted. He ran his hands through his hair then let them rest at the back of his neck for a moment. He was filled with a nervous, restless energy. He needed to do something, almost anything since the phone call from Patriot.

"Then perhaps might I suggest you follow the Race Bannon method?" Hadji finally turned to say, giving his adoptive father an arch look.

"The Race Bannon method?" Eriksson asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes – exercise, exercise and more exercise to either clear the mind, allowing rational thought once more. Or..."

"To be so tired that I can't stand over your shoulder," Benton finished with a wry grin, dropping a hand to rest on Hadji's shoulder. "Sorry, Hadji."

Hadji paused from his work and looked up at Benton. "It is perfectly understandable, Doctor Quest. This is not one of our 'normal' adventures."

"How long before Estella gets in?" Benton asked next.

"Not for several more hours," Hadji answered barely flicking a glance at the clock in the lower corner of the laptop screen. It wasn't quite three pm. local time. Estella's last flight wasn't scheduled to land until after seven pm..

"Come on, Doctor Quest. Grab your gear. I think your son here has the right idea," Eriksson stated, pulling his car keys out of his pocket.

"What?" Benton didn't think that Eriksson would actually think to take Hadji's advice.

"The hotel doesn't have what you need here for a serious workout. We're heading over to the Broadwater Athletic Club."

While Benton gathered up the necessary items from his luggage, Eriksson gave Hadji one of his business cards with his cell phone number listed on it and on the back, he had written out the number for the athletic club after looking it up in his cell phone. "Here's how to get a hold of us, Hadji in case you need anything."

"Thank you, Agent Eriksson. I will call if we manage to break Patriot's encryptions before your return," Hadji assured the FBI agent and Benton.

"Thank you, Hadji," Benton said the required clothing in a small roll tucked under one arm with his shoes hanging from his fingertips.

Then, they were out the door and Eriksson was guiding him down the back stairs and out of the hotel to his SUV. En route, Eriksson requested that a guess pass be waiting for him at the front desk upon his arrival and then, placed a called into his assistant Consuela to see if she needed anything and how the media requests were going.

"Consuela, it's Nick – we're heading over to Broadwater West for a couple of hours. Do you need anything before I head in?"

He paused and smiled when he heard her answer. "Okay, good. How are the media requests going?"

Another answer. "Good, good. The more we get those pictures out, the more chance we have of finding Jonny sooner. Any hits I need to be made aware of on the tip line?"

He received a negative answer that had his mouth turning down into a frown. "Damn. Well, it's early yet. These men have professional written all over them. They'll be certain to keep out of the public eye as much as they can.

"Anything else I need to take care of?" Again, a negative answer. "Great. As always, you are perfect, Consuela."

He laughed shortly and said, "Yes, I will definitely make note of it on your next performance review. You know I won't forget."

He disconnected the call with a smile and dropped the phone into its charging cradle.

***~RAJQ~***

Benton spent the afternoon prescribing to the 'Race Bannon Method' as Hadji put it. Concentrating solely on the exercise and his breathing, he tackled the rock climbing wall, he hit the treadmill for a few miles, did a circuit in the weight room before swimming laps until his arms were trembling and he could no longer maintain a steady breath. At that point, Eriksson helped him out of the pool and then kept a careful eye on him as he recovered in one of the hot springs.

He was drained. There was no other way to put it. Race had mentioned returning to Maine the following day to the surgeon and Benton had to agree. It was time to go home where he had closer access to IRIS. He wanted to head to Kansas City and start searching there for Jonny but he didn't want to tip his hand to Patriot that he had a good idea where his son was being held and give him time to move him again. He had to keep his faith in the law enforcement officials who were throwing their all at finding Jonny.

Judging he had soaked long enough, Eriksson asked, "Are you ready to head back yet, Doctor Quest?"

"Yes. Yes, I think I am," Benton said, gratefully accepting the hand that Eriksson offered him to step up out of the hot spring.

A brief stop at the showers to rinse off before getting dressed, they returned to the hotel in time to check in with Hadji and Andrea.

Hadji was just standing up from his laptop as they entered the hotel room. "You look better for your workout, Doctor Quest."

"Thanks, Hadji. You were right. I needed the time to clear my head."

"Good. We made much progress in cleaning up Patriot's voice distortions. It is not someone I can place. His voice does not have any outstanding characteristics I am sorry to say," Hadji updated him.

"In other words, he's still being careful."

"Yes, I am afraid so," Hadji answered.

"Thank you, Hadji. I know you'll get it eventually."

"I am also finding my patience to be worn thin by this 'Patriot,'" he admitted.

Benton clasped Hadji on the shoulder, offering some small comfort. "I know, Hadji, I know."

Andrea appeared in the doorway between the rooms, "Ready, Hadji?"

"I am ready, yes," he answered, slipping his room key card into his wallet and then putting his wallet back in his back pocket.

Benton watched them go and decided it was time to tend to some business matters while it was quiet. He needed something to occupy his mind while he waited for Hadji's return and/or more news on Jonny. He sighed heavily and wished that Rachel were still alive and by his side.

***~RAJQ~***

Estella had never been so grateful to get off a plane as when her flight landed in Helena.

"Finally," she sighed, standing up to gather up her carry-on bags and disembark.

It still seemed to take too long to exit the plane and make her way to baggage claim. Hadji seemed to appear out of nowhere with a small smile.

"It is good to see you, Doctor Velasquez."

"Hadji, you are a sight for these tired eyes," she answered with an answering smile.

"Which is why we are here," he motioned to Andrea who had come up behind him.

"Andrea Agrotera, Dr. Velasquez," the tall, blonde woman greeted, shaking hands with her. "I just wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"Estella, please," she answered, returning the handshake.

"Do you have any checked baggage?" Andrea asked, surveying the crowd, looking for possible threats and/or reporters.

"Yes, just one bag – it's supposed to come up on carousel three," Estella stated, pointing to the carousel that had just changed over to show her flight information and a male computer voice announced what the sign now read.

A few minutes later, the baggage carousel began to finally release the luggage it had held hostage in the depths of the airport and Estella's bag was one of the first to land on the rotating platform.

Hadji spotted it first and grabbed it for her.

"Now, which do you want to do first? Go to the hotel and freshen up before we head to the hospital, or head straight to the hospital?" Andrea asked as they headed out of the airport and to the parking garage where they had parked.

Estella sighed heavily. She wanted to see Jessie – to assure herself that her daughter would be okay; however, the longing for a hot shower was equally strong.

"Hotel first – I need a shower after being stuck in planes and airports for twenty-four hours," she decided.

"Understandable." Andrea acknowledged with a nod, leading the way back to the car.

Hadji put Estella's one suitcase in the back of the range rover and climbed in the backseat, automatically offering Estella the front passenger seat.

Soon, they were back at the hotel and Estella took advantage of the unlimited hot water supply and worked out several of the travel induced knots. Dressed in fresh clothes, Estella headed back out with Andrea to see Jessie at the hospital. It was so odd to see armed security still posted outside the rear door of the hotel.

She hadn't talked to Benton yet to get his take on all the new security, when she had looked in on him, he was deep in a phone conversation. He had waved to her and when he would have gotten off the phone, she motioned for him to continue. There would be time enough to catch up after she saw Jessie. Benton knew that and he mouthed for her to go see her first, before being dragged back into his phone call.

With a nod to the FBI agent parked outside the rear door of the hotel, Andrea drove and Estella tried to catch up to what had been happening while she'd been en route.

"How is Benton really handling all of this?" she asked quietly.

"Stressed and angry as hell," Andrea answered succinctly.

"He is very worried and yes, very angry at this 'Patriot,'" was Hadji's reply. "However, he is coping as best he can."

"Have any of you gotten any sleep since this started?" Estella asked next, watching Hadji closely in the visor mirror.

"I meditated and slept some on the flight home from Berlin. Doctor Quest spent at least part of the flight pacing as he cleared his schedule," Hadji answered truthfully.

"I slept from Maine to here," Andrea said. "Race flew that leg, but he did get some sleep that night once we got to the hotel. Last night, I'm not sure. He stayed at the hospital with Jessie."

"Probably not much then," Estella said thoughtfully.

"I would say you are probably right, Doctor Velasquez," Hadji agreed.

Estella questioned next, "How far away is the hospital?"

"It's about thirty minutes from the hotel," Andrea answered. She checked the traffic and signaled to move over to the exit lane to the highway that would take them to the hospital. She looked at her mirrors again with a frown forming on her face as a vehicle moved with her.

"What is it?" Hadji questioned, seeing her frown.

"It looks like we may have picked up a news truck on our tail. They probably figure we'll lead them to the hospital."

"That is a logical assumption," Hadji agreed.

"They haven't gotten a sound bite from me yet and figure that I had to have landed here by now," Estella commented.

"Well, let's not give 'Patriot' any information on where Jessie is if we don't have to," Andrea said decisively. "Hadji, see if you can punch up another hospital close by so it won't seem we're going too far off track."

"Just one moment," he answered, punching in his request to the dash-mounted GPS. "Children's hospital is in the same hospital complex and their parking garage is only a few blocks further away from where we park for the main hospital."

"Great," Andrea answered. "Lock it in and tell me where to go."

"Do you want me to inform Agent Eriksson about our media escort?" he asked next.

"What do you say, Estella? Give them their sound bite?" Andrea asked, merging back into traffic as she came off the ramp.

"Yes, let's do it," Estella said decisively. She'd been traveling for close to twenty-four hours to get to her daughter's side now because of what this 'Patriot' fellow had put into motion.

"You got it," Andrea answered. "Hadji, pull up the map and tell me exactly where the main entrance to the hospital is. I'm going to drop you two off there, let Estella make her statement and then, you'll cut through the hospital to the parking garage so I can pick you up."

"Think it'll work?" Estella asked.

"I think so. They'll be too busy chewing over what you have to say in order to follow us. That way, we'll keep them from finding out what hospital Jessie really is in and someone there getting greedy and stupid enough to break HIPAA confidentiality." Andrea answered confidently as the GPS called out the first turn they needed to take.

Not too long later, they were pulling up to the hospital front door and Andrea was checking her mirrors to see that the news truck was pulling up behind them. "Hadji, you got your phone?"

"Yes, I have it and yes, I have your phone number," he answered, guessing correctly what would be her next question.

"Call me if you have any problems," Andrea said.

"Most certainly," Hadji answered with a nod. He looked back to Estella. "Are you ready, Estella?"

"Let's get this over with," she said, opening her door and getting out. Hadji was right behind her.

Andrea took off slowly, almost as if reluctant to leave them there.

The news van came to an almost screeching halt and immediately, a reporter and cameraman were hopping out to come running up to them.

"Doctor Estella Velasquez? Doctor Velasquez!" the reporter called out, microphone up and at the ready. The cube just below the microphone around the handle identified her from one of the local network affiliates. "Doctor Velasquez, I'm Rebecca Collingham with Fox 5 Helena. Do you have a moment?"

Estella looked at Hadji with a smile just touching the corners of her mouth. She kept walking forward, acting like she hadn't heard.

The red headed reporter was determined, "Doctor Velasquez, please might I have a moment of your time?"

Estella slowed and turned around, all signs of the smile gone from her face. "What can I do for you, Miss Collingham?"

"Doctor Velasquez, by now you've heard about Doctor Quest's answer to the kidnappers. Do you have anything to say to that?" she got straight to the point.

"I have the utmost respect for Benton Quest and his sons Hadji and Jonny are almost as dear to me as my daughter is," Estella answered.

"What about the reward amount? Do you think it's too much? That that amount is only going to bog down the police and the FBI in tracking down all the crazy calls that will be flooding the tip line?"

"I fully believe that Benton did what he felt was right and I completely support his decision to offer that reward. If my daughter Jessica had been the one taken and I had his resources, I would do no different," Estella's smile this time was grim.

"What about your daughter? Do you have an update on her condition yet?"

"I am on my way to see her now. I have been on various planes for the last twenty-four hours and I don't know anything more about her condition than what was relayed at the news conference."

"Do you have anything to say to the man that the FBI says is behind the kidnapping?"

"Oh yes, yes I do indeed. However, most of what I would like to say is not fit to be aired on television. Let me just say that this man, this person who _dares_ to call himself a patriot, had better hope that neither I nor Jessica's father ever get a hold of him," Estella said, her temper flaring and showing in the red flush of her cheeks. She took a deep breath, clearly on the verge of saying more. Then she stopped, let it out slowly and shook her head, as if deciding against it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go see my daughter who had surgery today. Let's go, Hadji."

"Yes, Doctor Velasquez," Hadji murmured quietly. He bowed politely to the reporter and the cameraman and followed her into the hospital, where there was a security guard already hustling their way.

"Are you being harassed by that reporter ma'am?" the guard asked, casting a narrowed glare towards the reporter who now had her back to the hospital and was obviously making her report.

"No, not really," Estella sighed. "It's just been a _very long _day."

"Do you know where you're going?" the guard asked next.

"Could you tell us which way to the parking garage?" Hadji asked. "Our ride is waiting for us there."

"Sure. You go up to the third floor and you hang a left off the elevator and follow the signs. There's a sky bridge that will take you over to blue level in the parking garage."

"Thank you," Hadji answered for Estella who was still visibly steaming.

"You're welcome. Now, aren't you here to visit someone?" the guard was puzzled.

"Yes, but she is recovering from her injuries over at St. Peter's. This was merely a diversion tactic," Hadji supplied the answer, following Estella as she headed for the elevator.

The guard seemed to catch on then who they were and it showed in the clearing of his face. "You folks take care now. I'll see that those reporters don't bother you any more here tonight."

"That would be most appreciated yes," Hadji smiled at the man as the elevators doors closed, taking them up to the third floor of the hospital.

It took a few minutes longer than Estella wanted to cut through the hospital and get over to the parking garage. However, Andrea was waiting for them as they crossed over the enclosed walkway and out the doors to the garage.

"How'd it go?" she asked, as the two got into their seats, buckling up even as she put the rover in gear and released the clutch.

"I believe that Ms. Collingham will have enough for the late news broadcast and will be the envy of the rest of the reporters," Hadji reported.

"That good?" Andrea asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I said enough. Anything more would have been too much," Estella said, taking another deep breath. She needed to let go of the anger, but it was easier said than done.

It was quiet in the Ranger Rover as they exited the parking garage, the only sound that of the GPS unit calling out the turns for the back way out of the children's hospital complex and back over to the main hospital. This time Andrea parked in the garage first and accompanied them in, figuring on taking Race away from Jessie's side for him to eat and for Jessie to give some time alone with her mother.

The walk helped Estella finally release the temper that had flared when talking to the reporter. She was able to greet the guard at the door with a smile and a handshake, thanking him for watching over her daughter.

Inside, Jessie was nibbling on some toast and had a small bowl of soup along with a container of orange Jello sitting on a tray over her lap.

"Mom!" Jessie exclaimed, trying to smile, then stopping when her bruised face protested.

"Estella," Race said, getting up to wrap her in a hug.

Estella was caught off guard for just a second before wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm glad you're here," he said into her hair, hanging onto her for a long minute.

"Me too, me too, Race," Estella answered, understanding his need to hold her, to make sure she was safe and unharmed. She might not be in love with him anymore but that didn't mean she didn't know him and his driving need to protect his family.

Finally letting her go, Estella stopped back and looked him over sharply. "You're looking too worn, Race."

"It's been a long couple of days," he said with a worried frown.

"I know. Now go, go get something to eat," She said, cupping his cheek. "I'm here now."

Race took a trembling breath almost like he was going to argue but released it before agreeing, "Yeah, you're right. I've been in here too long. Jessie?"

"Go, Dad," Jessie urged, clearly wanting some time alone with her mother. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Come on, Race, let's get some food," Andrea urged, tilting her head towards the door.

"Yes Race, I am hungry and would like to eat some dinner as well," Hadji offered as another incentive to get Race out of the room, not blind to his friend's silent request.

"Fine, fine," Race grumbled, knowing he was outnumbered. He went over and dropped a kiss on her unbruised cheek. "I won't be gone long. Call if you need anything, Ponchita."

"I will Dad," Jessie answered.

He allowed Andrea and Hadji to lead the way out of the room and with a heavy sigh, let the door swing shut behind him.

***~RAJQ~***

Estella wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her tight as Jessie hugged her back and sniffed, "Mom."

"Oh, Jessie, I was so worried about you," Estella said, finding tears building up.

"I missed you, Mom," Jessie sniffed, still fighting the tears. "I was so scared."

"You weren't the only one, honey. You weren't the only one," Estella replied, running a hand down the back of Jessie's hair.

"I could handle the plane going down, because I knew Dad and Doctor Quest would find us as soon as they could. But when the bad guys showed up..." Jessie started crying.

"It's okay Jessie honey, it's okay," Estella soothed. "You're safe now and we'll find Jonny soon enough."

"We need to find him. They weren't interested in me at all. They were focused almost totally on him," Jessie cried harder – caught between anger at what happened, fear for herself and Jonny and guilt because she she hadn't been able to stop them from taking Jonny.

"The police, the FBI, I-1, Dr. Quest and Hadji are all working on it," Estella soothed. "They will find him honey, don't worry about that."

Everything she had thought up on the flight to say to her daughter about taking unnecessary risks and reckless actions slipped away. Jessie may be headstrong but who did she get it from if not both of her parents? What else could she expect her to do but to defend a wounded friend. She was sure that if put in Jessie's shoes with her training, she would have done the same thing. Estella sighed and comforted Jessie, knowing that this emotional storm had been building since the plane crash and her daughter had been mostly holding it together to keep from upsetting her father further.

"This was so not how I imagined my summer vacation going," Jessie hiccuped, winding down from the crying jag.

"No, I would suppose not," Estella laughed in surprise. "I had thought to lure you down to my dig over your break. However, I think that that is out of the picture now."

"Yeah, I think so," Jessie agreed. "This just totally sucks. How am I going to razz Jonny about getting hit in the face with a tree of all things, if I'm the one on crutches?"

"I don't know, Jessie. I honestly don't know," Estella answered.

The nurse knocked on the door, pushing it open as she asked, "Jessie? It's time for your pain meds. How are you doing?"

Jessie sat back and wiped her face with her hands and tried to remove the traces of her crying jag. Her cheeks were red and splotchy even showing through the bruise on the right side of her face. Under it, however, Estella could see the signs that Jessie was beginning to feel more pain than could be handled easily. The tightening of her eyes, the red fading from her cheeks to leave her pale and drained looking.

"Uhm, yeah, my ankle's really starting to throb," Jessie admitted.

"I'll get a fresh ice pack, since you haven't had one on for a while," the nurse said, swabbing the injection port on the IV line and pulling the syringe out of her pocket. She checked the label on it once more before sliding it into the port and dispensing the medication.

Estella slipped from the bed and wet a washcloth for Jessie to wipe her face with, taking the time to put her own emotions back in check. She would not add to Jessie's obvious guilt by getting angry in front of her.

***~RAJQ~***

Race held onto his questions until they were sitting down in the cafeteria with pizza slices and salad.

"Tell me, how'd the press conference go?"

"Pretty much as you'd expect," Hadji said, his calm demeanor betraying nothing of the news he had to share.

"Lots of questions being tossed out, not a whole lot of answers being given," Andrea put in.

"What did Whitmore have to say?"

"He didn't make it," Andrea smiled brightly.

"Huh, imagine that," Race answered, knowing the meaning behind her words.

"Exactly," Andrea said, taking a bit of her salad.

"Anything new from Patriot?"

"He was most unhappy with Doctor Quest after the press conference," Hadji said, letting his amusement show.

"Why? What'd Benton do?"

"He really turned up the heat on him. He offered a twenty-five million dollar reward for the safe return of Jonny and the arrest of the goon squad," Andrea supplied.

Race coughed, "Wow. Benton doesn't fool around. I expected him to offer a reward. But that amount? I can see why Patriot was upset." He took a drink to moisten his suddenly dry throat.

"He was most upset indeed," Hadji had a certain satisfaction at that.

Shaking his head again in disbelief, Race dug into his meal.

There was more discussion on the search for Jonny and what progress had been made throughout the meal. Race grinned widely at the tale of Estella giving the reporter her sound bite.

"That woman can put a marine drill sergeant to shame. When she says more with less words, then it's time to look out and stay out of her line of fire."

From there, it spun out into other adventures and misadventures the family had had when Estella was involved. Eventually, the meal was finished, Race admitted to himself that he had needed the short break and he was sure Jessie had needed the time with her mother.

Race checked his watch and wondered if Jessie had had enough time alone with Estella yet, or if he would be intruding. He didn't want to leave her 'alone' for too long. He was fighting his own semi-irrational feelings for keeping her in sight. Man, this whole situation had all of them messed up.

They dumped their trays and the group headed back up to Jessie's room as the guards at the door were changing shift, bringing each other up to date on their assignment and the larger case surrounding it.

The guards nodded to Race, gave him a quick hello before the guards who had been on duty shook hands with the ones coming on and headed for the elevators.

Estella almost ran into Race he went to push open the door to Jessie's room, "Oh, excuse me, Race."

"How's Jessie?"

"She just drifted off to sleep. The nurse gave her a fresh ice pack for her ankle and her dose of pain medication," Estella took a deep breath. There was more she wanted to say, clearly but she just wiped a tired hand over her face.

"Estella, go. Go to the hotel and get some real sleep," Race said, putting a hand on her shoulder. I'll stay with Jessie again tonight, nothing should happen and if it does, you're only a phone call away."

"Right. I know, but..." Estella wavered between sleeping in a real bed and staying at her daughter's side.

"I can truly guarantee that the hotel beds are comfortable," Race told her, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

"All right, all right, I'll go," Estella wiped the hand over her face once more. "Just let me say good night to Jessie and get my purse."

She turned and went back into the room, emerging moments later with her purse in hand.

Race wrapped her in a brief hug and said, "I promise, if anything happens here, I will call you."

***~RAJQ~***

Once back at the hotel, Andrea and Hadji took Bandit out for a late night walk, leaving Estella alone with a chance to talk to Benton.

She knocked on the door frame for the adjoining rooms, "Benton?"

Benton rubbed his hands tiredly over his face and looked up at her, "Estella, how's Jessie doing?"

"She feels guilty about what happened," Estella admitted. "She feels that somehow she should have been able to prevent what happened when they were attacked."

"Good heavens! Why should she feel guilty?" Benton was shocked.

"Because she feels she failed keeping those men from taking Jonny."

"There were three of them to one of her. What else could she do? Jonny couldn't help – I've seen pictures of him and his eyes are almost swollen shut," Benton disclaimed. "I don't blame her at all and I don't think Jonny would either."

"Logically, we know this, but emotionally? This really threw her off balance and for the first time I think because of the controlled violence of the attack. This scared her..."

"More than usual?" Benton asked.

Estella nodded, "Precisely."

"I think this is the most scared I've been since..." this time it was Benton's whose voice trailed off.

"But this time, you will get Jonny back – they haven't harmed him yet and Jessie's helped the sketch artist make good sketches of the men who took Jonny," Estella had to reinforce the positive.

"You're right, Estella. We need something to go in our favor and I'm hoping those sketches provide the break we need."

She yawned, drained from the flight, the worry, the relief and anger. She wanted to stay awake and talk to Benton, find out more how he was coping except that she felt like she could fall asleep standing up right there in the doorway.

"Benton -" another yawn interrupted her.

"It can and will wait until morning, Estella. Go, get some sleep," Benton said with a smile.

She gave in with a nod, heading back into her room. She was asleep within moments of climbing into the bed.

Benton sat brooding, trying to work but worry for impetuous son taking precedent. Hadji, with his usual calm, had fixed him a mug of his special meditation blend tea before sinking down onto his bed to meditate. Andrea had found a branch of a twenty-four hour gym and gone off to go work out.

Despite his own workout earlier in the day, sleep was slow in coming. Eventually, he gave up staring at his computer and lay down on the bed. Bandit was right there, nudging his hand, wanting Benton to pet him. Somewhere along the line, he fell asleep.

***~RAJQ~***

The morning found them gathered around the breakfast table in Estella and Andrea's room with fresh coffee and tea, plotting their moves for the day. The decision was made to get breakfast at the hospital with Race and Jessie, before the pilots would prep the Dragonfly for the flight back to Maine once Jessie was discharged from the hospital.

Checkout was accomplished via the in-house system on the TV and with Eriksson leading the way, they headed out the back entrance of the hotel once again, avoiding the media who were too busy rehashing the information given to them at the previous day's press conferences.

Hadji ended up riding back to the hospital with Eriksson so he could talk computer-ese as the FBI agent put it, with the lead tech from the local FBI office that he'd been working with on tracking Patriot's phone calls.

"I changed the command at line..." Hadji said to the in-dash speaker phone.

"Okay, I see that now," the tech ran the program again and watched as more lines were drawn on the already crowded map. "Wow, this guy is good. He's got this call bouncing off every cell tower in New York City!"

"Yes, he is quite good at hiding his tracks but not good enough," Hadji replied grimly.

"You ever want a job with the Bureau, Hadji, we'd love to have you on our team," the tech all but offering a job.

"Thank you for the offer but I am afraid I must decline – I have responsibilities back home that will require my full attention," Hadji smiled his answer. One agency or another had been trying to recruit him since he had passed his SATs with flying colors. Offering scholarships to the school of his choosing if he would come work for said agency upon graduation.

"What about that voice decryption? Were you able to get that cleaned up?"

"I'm sending that to you now. See if it matches what you were able to get out of it," Hadji had been uploading the file while he and Nick talked and then sent the FBI tech the line to the private FTP site he used when he didn't have a USB drive handy, or for files too large to put on a USB drive.

"Got it. I'll start the comparison right away."

"What's the word from the profiler?" Eriksson asked as they exited the highway.

"Sam used the word ego a lot. Me, I'd just say he's got some big cajones." Nick's chuckle echoed over the speaker phone.

"Nick," Eriksson warned, unable to suppress a smile himself.

"Sorry, boss," Nick was anything but. "I've sent it to your phone. However, the short of it is this guy's a class A manipulator. He wants the credit for his work but doesn't want the attention. Verbiage puts him upper East Coast, Ivy League educated, old money and definitely doesn't think Dr. Quest is his social equal."

"That much I figured. Old money, huh?"

"Yeah, _old money. _Railroad baron at the latest and he thinks of Dr. Quest as an upstart – someone who _should _be easily manipulated because he's a scientist."

"That's a mistake," Eriksson said, checking the traffic around him as he merged over for the turn into the hospital. He gave a pleased nod, seeing that the media hadn't followed them.

"This guy has serious control issues and he's not happy that Dr. Quest isn't playing along."

"Does Sam think he'll harm Jonny to get his point across?"

"No. He believes that holding Jonny hostage is enough to get what he wants."

"That is one very decisive point in his favor," Hadji murmured wryly, looking to the FBI agent.

"Anything else?" Eriksson asked.

"No, that's the highlights of the report," was the answer.

"Thanks. It gives me more to go on here."

"Sam also sent it to Consuela."

"Great, she'll see it gets to the team and anybody else who needs to see it. I'll talk to you later, Nick," Eriksson hit the disconnect button on his steering wheel and headed for the parking garage behind Andrea.

The group headed up for Jessie's room to find Race pacing the hallway impatiently outside.

"Where's Jessie?" Hadji asked.

"PT. She should be up before too much longer. What's up?"

"You ready to head back to Maine?" Benton asked.

"More than ready," was the answer. "Any more news on Jonny?"

"None right now. I expect a call from Patriot sooner or later here," Benton answered.

"I take it you want to leave as soon as possible," Race asked, making it more of a statement.

Benton nodded, "As soon as we eat."

"Works for me. How about I go prep the jet and file the flight plan?" Race said, eyes narrowing in thought.

"I was hoping you'd say that, Race," Benton sounded relieved.

"Great, I'll grab something from a drive-thru and go get started." He looked to Andrea and asked, "Where are you parked?"

"Level 3, west end of the garage, two rows over from the elevator," Andrea answered, handing him the keys to the SUV. "Do you want me to come with you for the pre-flight check?"

"No, stay here and make sure nobody gets in or out that shouldn't," Race said decisively, trusting her with Benton and Hadji's safety.

"Right," Andrea answered.

"I'll call when I've got the jet prepped," Race said in parting to Benton, before nodding to the rest of the group and spinning on his heel to head for the parking garage.

***~RAJQ~***

Jessie returned from her first physical therapy session not too long afterwards with a list of instructions from the therapist and a prescription for a CPM machine – continual passive motion machine – which would provide continued, controlled therapy for the injured joint, preventing scar tissue from immobilizing it. Also, it would make the actual physical therapy much easier and shorter in the long run, something Jessie was all for.

She looked up at the group that was lounging outside her room and not seeing her dad among them she said, "Hey all, what's up? Where's my dad?"

"He's gone to prep the Dragonfly for our flight back to Maine," Hadji answered.

"We're going home? But, what about Jonny?" Jessie asked next.

"The FBI and I-1 have leads they're working on but right now, there's nothing more we can do here," Benton said.

"Besides, Mrs. Evans is waiting to fuss over you," Estella said.

Jessie groaned and would have protested but Andrea stepped in, "We were just about to head down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Have you eaten yet, Jessie?"

Jessie would have shook her head, but the lingering dizziness from her concussion made her stop before she started, "No, not yet."

"You hungry then?" she asked next.

"Yeah, sorta," Jessie replied.

The nurse spoke up form the desk, "Go ahead and get something to eat, Jessie. Dr. Kelpas just called to say it'll be a while before he gets over here to sign off on your discharge paperwork and answer any last questions you might have."

"Oh, okay then... I guess it's breakfast time," Jessie said and looked to Hadji in his jeans and t-shirt that didn't look out of place with the turban he wore to save her and push her wheelchair.

Hadji, more than perceptive, said, "Do you want me to push you, Jessie?"

"Please, Hadji," Jessie answered, trying to hide her relief.

He took control of the wheelchair and led the way to the elevators.

Breakfast wasn't the long, drawn out affair Jessie had feared it would be and Doctor Quest, after taking a look at the CPM machine the physical therapist had recommended for her ankle, had quickly ordered it from his PDA over the protests over Jessie and her mother.

"Doctor Quest..." Jessie started at the same time as Estella's, "Benton -"

"Estella, please. It's one small thing I can do right now," Benton's smile was brittle, a sign of the emotions he was keeping in check.

Jessie looked to Hadji who gave a small, almost invisible nod telling her that this was one of those things to just go with the flow on.

Andrea said nothing on the matter, choosing to eat her breakfast in silence, watching the crowd of people moving in and out of the cafeteria.

Eriksson's phone rang and he became involved in that conversation for the moment.

Jessie wanted to say something to show her appreciation but just couldn't find the words.

Her mother exhaled heavily and put a hand on Benton's arm, "Don't let the guilt eat you up, Benton. It's not your fault this happened."

Jessie gave up on trying to say anything for the moment and carefully ate her breakfast, unsure how her stomach would react and the throbbing from her ankle was starting to become more intense.

She was grateful when they headed back upstairs and her nurse was there with one last dose of IV administered painkiller.

"This should get you home before it wears off," she said, disposing of the needle in the sharps bins and removing the IV line from her hand.

"Thanks, Jenna," she said gratefully, aware of her extended family and guards hovering outside.

By the time she'd managed a shower, braided her wet hair and dressed in a donated set of aqua green scrubs, the surgeon came in to look at her ankle, go over her discharge instructions and references for a surgeon to follow up on her post care, Race was back hovering and Jessie was feeling more than claustrophobic. She couldn't wait to get back home to Maine where she and Hadji could really use IRIS to try and find Jonny.

Finally, the doctor answered all her dad's questions and signed off on her discharge paperwork. She was free. She wanted to grab the crutches Jenna the day nurse had brought in and hobble out of the hospital right then,

"Whoa there, Ponchita. You're not walking out of here. You're sticking to that wheelchair and letting one of us push you out to the car," Race said putting a hand on her shoulder as she leaned forward to grab the crutches.

"Dad! This is a walking cast in case you haven't noticed. I can walk and I've been doing it for a long time now," Jessie immediately protested.

"Yes, but you also have a mild concussion and a fractured cheek and you just had surgery yesterday."

"Yesterday, Dad. Yesterday. You heard Doctor Kelpas – he said it was okay for me to walk with the crutches," Jessie retorted.

"Short distances, Jessie. Short distances. Not all the way out of this hospital and to the parking garage," Race countered.

Hearing the raising voices of father and daughter, Estella stepped in and said with raised eyebrows, "What are you two arguing about now?"

"He won't let me walk out of here and out to the car, Mom!" Jessie turned to her, hoping for some support from her mother.

"And, I happen to think he's right. It is a fair distance to go on crutches and more than anything, I know your arms will be tired and aching by the time you get to the car." Estella said calmly. She looked to Race, "Why don't you make this easier Race and go move the car so that it's right at the pedestrian bridge over from the hospital?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Race replied, taking a deep breath to bring his temper back under wraps. He stalked from the room, almost but not quite, slamming the door open on his way.

"Mom, seriously. I just want to walk. I want to get up and go _now_. Can't you understand that, please?" Jessie tried to plead her case with her mother and hope that she would see her point of view.

"I understand, honey. Probably better than you think but your father is scared and feeling guilty right now. He thinks it's his fault that this all happened. That if he'd been the one piloting the plane none of this would have happened," her mother said, putting a hand on the crutches that were the symbol of their argument. "This has scared all of us, Jessie. Just please, go with us on this one?"

Great, just great. Both her parents were stressing out here big time. Couldn't they see she needed to get up and move before she went stir crazy? That she was going to scream bloody murder if they didn't back off and let her have some space? Jessie was fuming and didn't want to listen to her mother either. She'd have to talk to Hadji on the way home and get him to get her parents to back off. However, she'd lost this round it seemed.

"Fine. Whatever," she gave in with a huff and refrained from crossing her arms over her chest.

Estella gave her a look that said she didn't appreciate the attitude but held her peace. She hooked the bag with Jessie's dirty clothes from the plane wreck on the back of the wheelchair and then, handed Jessie the crutches to hold on to. "Your father has probably made it to the car by now, knowing him. So, let's get going, shall we?"

"Yeah, let's get going. I'm sure Bandit's going nuts by now," Jessie answered, trying to let go of her temper.

"He's at the airport waiting on board for us," Estella said, pushing Jessie's chair out of the room.

"I can't wait to get back to Maine," Jessie stated with a heartfelt sigh.

"I think on that, we can all agree, Jessie," Hadji agreed.

With Andrea running point and the FBI agent bringing up the rear, the group departed the hospital to begin the trip home.

***~RAJQ~***

When they arrived back home in Maine, Mrs. Evans was waiting for them as the front door of the rebuilt Quest compound. Jessie, more tired than she was willing to admit, did allow the housekeeper to fuss over her and tuck her into bed for a short nap.

The next few days she spent more time sleeping than she wanted to, but between the remaining headache from her concussion that made staring at a computer screen nausea inducing and the pain meds made staying awake for more than a few hours at a time almost impossible.

The mood in the Quest household was not good. Tempers frayed as the waiting dragged out and the man called, "Patriot" called and only offered photographic evidence of Jonny's continued captivity while still making the same demands.

Estella and Hadji each tried to play peace keeper but it wasn't an easy task. IRIS screened most calls coming into the compound, dumping the media requests for information back to the Quest corporate media liaison.

As a popular song stated, "Waiting is the hardest part" and Jessie wondered when things would break. Sooner, rather than later, she hoped.


	14. Chapter 14 Escape!

**Real Adventures of Jonny Quest**  
**Cross Country Quest**  
**Chapter 14 – Escape**  
**by LadyNiko**

Jonny Quest had been captured enough times by bad guys over the years to know how to plan your moves and when to hold your cards.

He had been waiting for his head to stop spinning for a couple of days now. He figured his dad was going nuts not being able to find him, because this was the longest he'd ever been captured without somebody from his family with him. They hadn't told him much of anything, since apparently their employer wasn't of the gloating about his evil plans type.

He had managed to pull a spring from the cot's frame without being detected by the ever watchful security camera. He didn't know when he would have a chance to use it to try and get the lock on his door opened from inside his "guest quarters," but he knew he had to be prepared to take advantage of that moment when it came.

Being this far underground, he had no idea what the weather was like outside. The temperature never varied – it was always a constant 68 degrees and the humidity was almost non-existent.

His eyesight was still an issue – he could see, but not keep his eyes open for too long since they were still swollen.

Then, because he was bored and not able to do much of anything, he almost missed his chance when the lights in the room suddenly blacked out without warning.

No, he couldn't be that lucky, he thought. The power just couldn't have gone out, could it?

But, never one to miss an opportunity when it was presented, Jonny looked up to where the security camera would be, searching for that telltale light, saying it was recording. Nothing. The room was pitch black.

He moved swiftly off the bed, feeling his way along the wall to the door and just as he thought, there were screws holding the deadbolt in place. The problem was that they were flush set small Phillips head screws – almost jeweler size. Well, Race hadn't taught him lock picking for nothing and he'd picked up more than a few tricks from Hadji along the way.

It would take him longer than he wanted, but if he was lucky, he could get the lock open before the power came back on. Working by feel alone, Jonny managed to get one screw out and then, the other. He got the lock cylinder pulled out and then, managed to retract the deadbolt. That was it. The door was now unlocked and the power still hadn't come back on.

He put his ear to the door, listening for sounds from the hallway. He had no idea when the power was going to come back on or when the thugs would return.

He heard some muffled shouting about the power.

"Damn it! I thought this place was supposed to have a back up generator!"

"It does, but apparently, the fuel's been siphoned off – that's why it didn't kick on," another voice shouted in answer.

"Damn it! Stay where you are, I'll go deal with this, myself!" this time, the first speaker was much closer and Jonny dared to open his door a crack.

He couldn't see anything but the silhouette of the speaker holding the flashlight. Then, the person carrying the flashlight walked off with a limp, Jonny judged from the way the light moved. Okay, that was the leader that walked off.

He listened for the sound of someone else breathing or moving in the hallway. Nothing close, so he carefully opened the door. Easing out into the hallway, Jonny could see someone with a flashlight checking doors and making their way towards him. He had to make his move now. He wouldn't get another chance – not after they discovered how he'd taken the lock apart.

Jonny moved quietly down the corridor, following the retreating light of what had to be the leader. If power was out, and the generator not working, then the elevators wouldn't be working either and there had to be stairs leading up and out of this place.

It took maybe a hundred yards down the hallway before he saw the flashlight lift up and reflect off a dimly glowing green exit sign.

Jonny would have to try and take the leader down when he got to the stairs, because otherwise he would hear Jonny coming up behind him. Carefully weighing out his options, he slipped through the door for the stairs just before it closed.

The leader already had a bad knee, take that out first, then, knock him out, take his flashlight and head for ground level.

It sounded simple, but putting it into action was another matter.

Hearing movement, Leader turned around and shone his light on Jonny, who was already moving for the first blow to his knee.

Leader crumpled as the knee gave way and could no longer support his weight from the ACL rupture. Jonny moved in closer and didn't hold back with his punch to the man's left temple. The man's head snapped to the right and he crumpled without further resistance, hitting his head on the railing on the way down.

Jonny checked him for a pulse, relieved to find one still there, before taking his flashlight and radio. He wasted no more time and went dashing up the stairs. It wasn't until he got closer to ground level that he could hear rumbling outside. So far, the radio was quiet, but he didn't expect that to last long.

Jonny got to ground level and found himself on the opposite side of the carven where the elevator was. He could see one man watching the storm raging just outside.

And, man, what a storm it was. The wind was lashing the rain and driving it sideways. The lightning was intense and the thunder echoed through the cavern with great booming peals that made the ground vibrate.

Okay, Jonny thought, time to get the SUV and drive out of there. Another trick learned from Race and Hadji – how to hotwire a car. His father had been mortified at first, but when it had come in handy getting away from the bad guy of the moment, Benton had quit complaining.

He found the backseat passenger side door unlocked and quietly shut the door as the thunder boomed again. Keeping a blurry eye on the goon at the cavern entrance, he climbed up to the front seat and hotwired the car. It took him too long using the spring from the bed frame as his knife to cut and splice wires, but he finally got it done as another loud thunderclap rolled through the cavern. Using that sound as a cover, he started the engine and put the car in reverse, doing a quick U-turn to head out of the cavern. The headlights came on automatically sensing the darkness of the raging storm, that only left Jonny to deal with the windshield wipers as he sped out of the cavern, barely missing the thug standing at the entrance too stunned to shoot him at first for escaping.

He could hear swearing on the radio sitting on the seat next to him. It was just a standard walkie-talkie and didn't have much range, but it was enough to give him a small bit of satisfaction – you can't keep one of the Quest clan locked up for long.

The drive was hell, visibility was almost zero compounded by his swollen eyes. Jonny needed to get to a police station and put himself in the hands of the authorities to get back to his family. He _had_ to trust the police at the least. He also knew he needed to ditch the car because there was probably a tracking device of some sorts on it – GPS or lowjack. Either way, he didn't want the bad guys chasing him right away.

His decision was made for him sooner than he thought when a lightning strike almost right in front of him on the road made him wince and flinch reflexively. He ended up hitting a tire eating pothole and lost his right front tire.

"Damnit!" he cursed, feeling the SUV pulling hard to the right and there was no mistaking that thumping of a flat tire. Hitting the hazards, he slowed down considerably, looking for a safer place to pull over.

He couldn't stay with the car. He needed to put more distance between him and the bad guys. It wouldn't take them long to come looking for him.

At least there was a baseball hat sitting on the passenger side floorboard in the backseat. He could use that to keep the rain out of his eyes while he went looking for a gas station to call the police.

He got the hat and then, pulling down low on his brow, got out of the car in to the driving rain. He was instantly soaked, but he had to keep moving, had to get distance away from the thug crew.

He walked for maybe a mile before he finally saw another car. This was a fairly abandoned industrial area, not much vehicular traffic – not like he knew what time of day it was. It could be morning or evening for all he knew.

Jonny stuck his thumb out, hoping they'd take pity on him and give him a ride.

He didn't know if it was luck or curiosity that made the low rider SUV pull over. The driver was a young Hispanic male who couldn't be more than a year or two older than Jonny.

"Hey man, what's up? You need a ride?" the driver asked in Spanish, probably hoping Jonny wouldn't be able to understand him.

"Yeah man, my ride got a flat," Jonny answered in perfect colloquial Spanish, even getting close to the driver's accent.

The driver seemed to take that into consideration and talked with his buddies, in a mixture of Spanish and English before turning to Jonny, "Sure man, hop on in. We got room for one more body."

"Thanks, man. You don't know how much this means to me," Jonny said gratefully, heading to the passenger driver's side door.

"Where you headed, Amigo?" the driver asked, after Jonny was in the car.

"Nearest gas station – I gotta call my dad and let him know I'm all right," Jonny said, because that would _so_ be his first call.

"Amigo, you don't mind me saying, but you look like you came out wrong end on a fight," the front seat passenger said.

"Yeah, with a tree of all things," Jonny said with a half laugh.

"Dude, you and nature don't get along do you?" said the guy sitting next to him.

"Not this week, it seems," Jonny said with a sigh.

That got his current companions laughing and it helped to ease some of the tension they had obviously been feeling by picking up this Gringo kid who'd obviously gotten himself way lost.

They drove for a couple of miles in what appeared to be farmland interspersed with more industrial parks, before coming out to a major road.

"Hey, Amigo, there's a gas station with a pay phone that's under cover just up ahead. You got enough money on you to make the call?"

Jonny checked his pockets. Damn, he'd completely forgotten about his wallet. "No man, I must have left my wallet back in the car."

The front seat passenger was digging for change when shots rang out, shattering the rear windshield first, then, going up the driver's side of the car. Jonny didn't know who was firing at them, just knew that he needed to get out of there now. He pushed at the guy next to him, shouting, "Move! Move! Move!"

It was too late, he felt the burning, hot impact in the back of his left shoulder drive him forward, onto the person next to him. He groaned when he saw that the shot had gone all the way through and left a huge exit wound. Even now, he could feel himself losing his grip on consciousness from the shock, pain and immediate blood loss. He was in trouble and worried that the shot had done more damage than he could see. But moments later, that was beyond his caring as the world went gray around the edges and everything turned to black.

***~RAJQ~***

Burning fire woke Jonny. His whole left arm was burning and he was being manhandled. He gasped with pain to see a person with protective goggles on wearing a blue uniform bending over him, except they were upside down. Then, yeah, he figured out they were bending over him.

"My dad..." he rasped out.

"Just hang on. We'll get you to the hospital where they can take care of that arm," the woman assured him.

"No, gotta call my dad..." Jonny said, trying to sit up, he was completely disoriented.

"You're not going anywhere but to the ER and then the OR to fix that gunshot wound, now hold still."

Jonny lurched against her purple gloved hands, desperation driving him forward. He needed to make that phone call. He cried out as the pain spiked and drove shooting lines of fire all the way down to his fingertips.

Then, the world grayed again and he found himself collapsing back against the seat.

***~RAJQ~***

He woke up to bright lights overhead and someone shining a light in his eyes as he struggled to bring reality into focus.

Someone moved his arm and this time, Jonny couldn't stop the short scream of pain that burst out.

He needed to call his dad. He had to call him.

"Dad..." Jonny moaned.

"No, your father's not here," the person at his head said.

"No, you don't understand. Gotta call him..." Jonny tried to get up. Why couldn't these people let him call his dad? He needed to talk to him!

"Just relax. You're gonna be okay, but you gotta let us do our work first," another voice said, restraining his right shoulder.

"Gotta call him!" Jonny was becoming agitated and wanted out of there now. He wanted, needed to call his dad. He tried to get up again, but couldn't for the pain radiating all the way down his left side.

"Damn it! He's losing too much blood! We need to get him up to the O.R.. Where the hell are those x-rays?" the first voice shouted.

Jonny tried rolling over to his right side. He didn't understand what they wanted with him. He just needed to call his dad first.

"Shit! He's going to totally shred his brachial artery if he keeps this up!" a male voice near his left ear shouted.

Nooo! They couldn't do this! Jonny thought and tried to fight back against the bodies holding him down.

A female voice tried to calm him down, "Hey, listen to me. You're going to be all right, but you need to stay still and let us do our job."

"Call my dad," Jonny panted against the pain.

"We will, but you need to stay calm for us. You're bleeding heavily here and we need to stop the bleeding to see how badly you're hurt," the woman said.

"O.R. Three is ready for him," a new voice called out after answering a phone.

"Great," the male voice at his left ear said. Then he addressed Jonny, "Hey, just hang in there, young man. We're gonna take you on up to surgery now so we can fix the damage in your shoulder."

"Please, call my dad," Jonny tried again to make them understand.

"What's his phone number?" the female voice asked. "And, what's your name?"

"It's - " Jonny started to say, then had to keep from shouting in pain as someone pressed down on his left shoulder. "Stopstopstop! Hurts!"

"Let's get some pain relief on board his IV here," the male voice called out.

"Phone number is..." Jonny slurred, shock, blood loss and the drugs taking their toll and making the world fall away before he could get the phone number out.

***~RAJQ~***

Jonny was unconscious and the ER team went back to work, getting him stable and ready for the O.R.

As of right now, they didn't know they had the most wanted person in America. He was another John Doe caught up in a gang shooting until the police identified him by his fingerprints.

He was wheeled to the O.R. as soon as radiology called to say that the x-rays were printing at that moment. The trauma surgeons had their work cut out for them repairing the damage the bullet ricochet had caused.

***~RAJQ~***

The trauma surgery team included the vascular surgeon who went to work repairing the damage to the brachial artery first. It hadn't been completely ruptured by the bullet, but had had a chunk taken out of it so it was pulsing blood with every heartbeat. The ER lead had been worried about permanent damage to the arm with the blood loss, but there was still some blood flow going to the fingertips. Reduced, but it was there.

As he worked, the surgeon wondered about his patient. The boy was a mystery. No ID on him, he'd heard, and no tats identifying him as a gang member, yet he was found in an SUV with two other gang members. Finally, his work was done. The blood vessels had been repaired. He saw the fingers were pinking up even as he finished. He lightly squeezed one finger to test the blood flow and saw that it rushed back to the finger, eager to make sure that blood flow remain uninterrupted.

With a nod, he stepped back and began his oral report for the orthopedic surgeon. "Primary vascular damage has been repaired, normal blood flow has been restored. Barring infection, patient should suffer no long term circulatory damage."

The orthopedic surgeon patched the collar bone back together. The bullet had gone in at an odd angle, skimming off the shoulder blade, instead of punching through it, missed the heart and lungs, nicked the brachial artery under the collar bone and ripped through the subclavian vein on its way out, punching a hole through the clavicle, pecs and deltoid muscle structures. Meaning in layman's terms, it tore a whole in his upper chest at his collar bone.

When it was all said and done, the young man's upper shoulder was a patchwork of stitches, screws and pins holding everything in place while the body healed.

The surgeons didn't, wouldn't doubt that he'd heal – he was extremely fit and his blood work had come back clean, showing no drugs or infections in his system.

They checked their work before closing and everything looked good. The wounds were closed to allow for drainage and careful monitoring as the healing process took place.

After he was headed to recovery, the lead surgeon went to go talk with the waiting police detective.

***~RAJQ~***

Jonny woke in recovery disoriented, but still driven by the need to call his father. He couldn't figure out why he was so fuzzy headed. He tried to sit up, but just didn't have the muscle coordination. It was all he could do to lift his head. He heard some machine beeping next to him but it wasn't what he wanted.

Then, there was a blob in maroon next to him. He had to blink several times to see it was a woman wearing maroon scrubs.

"Nice to see you're waking up. How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

That was when he realized his left shoulder hurt. Hurt bad. But, he had to call his father...

"Dad...need..." Jonny couldn't get the words out. His tongue seemed to be made of lead and resistant to use. He made another effort to get up – this time raising his shoulders off the bed.

Boy, was that a mistake. His head spun and the pain from his left shoulder was off the scale.

The woman easily restrained him, "Rest easy, young man. You're in the surgical recovery unit at UMKC Hospital."

"Need..." Jonny tried again to impart what he wanted, but it was too hard to try and make his tongue work. He was so tired... His eyes slid close and he felt that particular gray, floaty feeling closing in on him. It carried him off and the world fell away again.

***~RAJQ~***

The next time he woke was to the feel of someone holding his right wrist. He peeled his eyes open to see a person in blue-green scrubs this time.

The face resolved itself into a black woman in her forties if he'd had to guess. He still needed to call his father. He had to let him know.

"Dad?" Jonny croaked, surprised at how hard it was to get that word out. His mouth was full of cotton.

"No, sweetheart. Your father's not here." she tried to soothe him, brushing his tousled hair off his forehead.

He tried again, "...Call."

He worked to get some moisture back in his mouth, he didn't think he'd ever get rid of the cottony-wool feeling. Then, there was a straw in front of him and he sipped gratefully on the water, holding it in his mouth for a moment, letting it sink in and rehydrate it. Then, he let is slide down his parched throat, gratefully sipping more until it was taken away from him.

"Need to call him," he managed to finally say somewhat clearly.

"You're in the ICU, sweetie. You don't have a phone in here."

"Important... need to call him." Jonny had to tell her. Why wouldn't anyone listen to him?

"Hey now," the nurse said, seeing his heart rate jump on the monitor.

"I need to talk to my dad," Jonny said, more clear now that he'd had the water.

"You need to calm down, Sweetheart. You're fresh out of surgery not that long ago," the nurse said, listening to his heartbeat.

"Important... need to call him," Jonny had to tell her. Why wouldn't anyone listen to him?

He huffed in frustration. He needed someone, anyone, if they wouldn't let him do it himself, to call his dad.

"Are you in pain, son?" she asked, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around his right arm.

Why would he be in pain? He couldn't remember any injury that he would need surgery for. Then, he looked down and saw the bandages over his left shoulder. The pain kicked in, leaving him breathless.

"Hrm, I'll take that as a yes," she picked up a syringe from the over the bed tray and after wiping the IV port with an alcohol swab, injected it in the IV port.

Jonny knew the family rules about medication, but he so wasn't in control of the situation and that just sucked.

Once more, the pain and drugs pulled him back towards sleep and try as he might, he couldn't stay awake.

***~RAJQ~***

He woke again, aware that more time had passed, but not sure how much. He could hear someone sitting over to his left side, sipping at a drink. It was one of those special coffee drinks that were so popular, his nose told him.

"You waking up there now, young man?" a voice, male and older, asked him.

Jonny found it easier to open his eyes this time, although they were still heavy.

He had to work for a moment before saying, "Yeah, sorta."

The man was wearing a well tailored shirt that did nothing to hide the bulletproof vest he wore underneath and had a badge clipped to his waist along with a holster.

Jonny gratefully sipped at the water the policeman provided for him.

The man had dark brown, almost black hair that was sprinkled with gray at the temples and deep brown eyes.

"I'm Detective Jarod Weiss of the Kansas City Police Department. Do you think you can answer a few questions for me?" the detective had a rich, smooth voice.

"Can you call my dad? They won't let me," Jonny asked. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he had to call him. Rules.

"I can probably do that – what's your name and what's his phone number?"

"The phone number is," Jonny rattled off his father's cell phone number.

"That's not a local number," the detective commented, writing it down.

"That's because I'm _not_ local. Call him first and tell him I'll be all right."

"What's your name?"

"Jonny," Jonny answered, feeling relief now that the detective was listening to him. "Family Rules – gotta call my dad, first."

"I can't use my cell phone in here, not in the ICU. But, can you tell me what happened?"

"Long story," Jonny sighed. One of the machines he was hooked up to chirped and he could feel his awareness seemed to be sliding away again. He hated this drugged up business. "Call my dad. He can tell you..."

"Was your dad somehow involved in the shooting?" the detective asked.

"No," Jonny answered with a slight shake of his head. "Hates guns." He was almost asleep again when he remembered, "Need to call Phil Corvin at I-1."

"Why's that?" Detective Weiss asked, more curious than ever about the identity of his shooting victim.

"Call List Rule – when captured by bad guys..." Jonny murmured.

"Bad guys? This happen to you often?"

"Not hurt like this, but bad guys – yes," Jonny was on the edge of sleep, but fighting it. "Phil's office number is..."

This time it was a 202 area code that Jonny gave him, meaning DC proper.

"Tired..." Jonny apologized to the detective with a half-smile.

"Rest, Jonny. We'll talk again when you've rested," Detective Weiss assured him with a gentle squeeze on his left knee. "Perhaps your father will be here when you wake up."

Jonny would have answered him, but sleep had claimed him once more.

***~RAJQ~***

Detective Weiss stepped out of the curtained alcove to nod at one of the nurses on duty.

"Did you get a name for our John Doe?" she asked.

"Yeah, first name Jonny," he answered, beginning to put the pieces together.

Blond, blue eyes, first name Jonny, bad guys and a government contact. He was pretty damn certain this was the kidnapped Quest heir.

"Think about it, Loretta," Detective Weiss urged her. "Blond, blue eyes, right age..."

How anyone could have missed the media coverage about the kidnapping, he didn't know and he was homicide – not missing persons.

Her eyes widened, "You mean, he's that kidnapped boy that's been all over the news?"

"That's my guess," he answered. "And, I'm about to find out. Can I use the nurses' lounge while I make some calls?"

"Better yet – the patient's advocate Kate Dayton – her office is empty this week since she's on vacation. I've got the key so I can water her plants."

"Great, where is it?" Jarod asked, taking the key on a purple stretchy chain from her.

"In the waiting lounge by the elevators, down and to the right."

"Thanks, Loretta," he said and briskly walked to the office. His day was going to get a lot more complicated after he made these calls, he knew.

He sat down at the desk with his notepad in hand. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the first number. He was surprised to hear a younger, definitely non-American accented voice pick up.

"Benton Quest's phone. This is Hadji Singh speaking."

"Hello, I'm Detective Jarod Weiss with the Kansas City, Missouri Police Department. I was given this number by Jonny to call..."

"You have found my brother?" the Indian accented voice on the other end asked excitedly.

"You could say that..." Jarod answered.

"And, knowing my brother, he is somehow hurt and unable to call himself. At least he remembered the rules." Hadji said knowingly.

"You could say that..." Weiss repeated. He wasn't about to talk about Jonny's medical status. That wasn't his business. "I really need to talk to Doctor Quest. Is he available?"

"He is in the shower, but you will have to talk to Race Bannon now since he is demanding I hand the phone over to him."

A moment later, he head a gruff voice with a hint of a southern accent say, "Bannon here. Who is this?"

"Detective Jarod Weiss, KC MO Police. Jonny told me to call."

"How is he?"

"Hurt, but he'll be okay," Weiss answered.

"Where are you?"

"UMKC Med Center."

"We'll be there in a couple of hours. Whatever you do – don't leave him alone. Got that?"

"Yes, sir," Weiss felt the implied threat in those words and normally would have bristled against it, but this was no ordinary case.

"Right, Bannon out," then the phone disconnected.

Oh yes, he could feel the headache building. He'd have to beg his wife, Catherine, for a neck massage tonight if he made it home. He dialed the next number Jonny had given him.

"Phil Corvin's office," a youngish, female voice answered.

He began again. This time, he was grilled thoroughly. How had Jonny been found? What was his status? What was his prognosis?

The difference was that he was able to ask questions back, to get some of his own answers.

"Director Corvin, Jonny didn't have any gang ties did he?"

"Jonny? In a gang? That would mean staying in one place long enough for that. He grew up all over the world – literally." Corvin answered with a laugh.

"I just needed to rule that out. He was caught in what appeared to be a gang fight."

"No, Jonny's never been in a gang. He doesn't like handling guns."

"Look, Jonny was found soaking wet, while the gang members were not," Weiss offered up.

"Then he must have escaped on foot somehow..." Crovin wasn't a political bootlicker. He had done his time as a field agent.

"Right, and believe me, we're looking into that now that I know who he is."

"How long has it been since he was found?"

"Almost twenty-four hours."

"Damn. Then, they've probably cleared out from wherever they were holding him."

"If they're smart," Jarod answered truthfully.

"And this group has proven nothing but smart. Have you talked to Doctor Quest yet?"

"No, only briefly to a Hadji Singh and someone called Race Bannon," Jarod left unsaid the 'who threatened bodily harm' part.

"Race is Jonny's bodyguard. His bark is _usually_ worse than his bite. I'm sure he's already told you to put guards on Jonny."

"Yes, he did. That was going to be my next call."

"Good – don't worry about the budget for this extra manpower – I-1 is picking up the tab. Have your captain call me."

"Yes, sir. I'll do that. In the meantime -"

"Stick like glue to that boy!"

"I plan on it, sir," Jarod answered, truthfully.

"Good. I don't need to tell you that the Quest Clan will be descending en masse on you soon, do I?"

"No, you don't," Jarod shook his head.

"Take care of him, Detective Weiss – that young man is special."

"Yes sir, I will," Jarod said, disconnecting.

He sighed and dreaded the next call the most.

"Catherine Weiss," a sharp female voice answered the phone.

"And, how is my favorite prosecuting attorney today?"

"In a mood – my last case just got postponed because the pathetic public defender had appendicitis of all things!" the woman snarled in a throaty voice.

"Ouch. Well, I'm stuck at UMKC Med Center – that gang shooting I got yesterday just took a very complicated turn." Jarod winced, knowing his wife would have something to say.

He heard her sigh, then ask, "I guess you won't be home for dinner, will you?"

"I doubt it," Jarod knew he was getting off light – for now.

"Well, you will have to make it up to me, you know," this time, the voice held promise.

"I can do that," he relaxed for a moment, enjoying the banter with her. "Anything particular in mind?"

"You're the genius, you can figure it out," she purred.

"Well, I guess I can at that," he answered, already planning a trip to a gems dealer for just the right present for his wife.

"Can you tell me anything about the case?" she asked next, her mind sharp as ever.

"Not yet. Keep your eye on the news – I'm sure that as soon as things start to get moving, the press will be all over it."

Not that he had any intention of talking to the media if he could avoid it – this case was too hot to be taking chances.

"That big?" she asked.

"Yes," he sighed and knew he was only delaying the call to his captain. "Look, I've got a lot of calls to make still."

"All right, I'll let you go – for now," she answered.

"I love you, Catherine Weiss," he said, knowing it could never be said enough.

"I know you do. I'll make sure to share some of that love with the Magpie," she said, referring to their daughter who had her father's dark eyes and a keen mind from both her parents.

"Tell Magpie her daddy loves her and will bring her a treat soon."

"Take care, Jarod."

"I will," he promised.

He hung up, stretched and leaned back in the chair for a moment, planning out exactly what he was going to say to his captain before he made the next call. He looked out at the glorious red sunset. He wondered if he would see his wife and daughter tonight at all?

He gave in and called his captain next.

"Tompkins, go," the captain answered via speaker phone distractedly.

"Captain, it's Weiss – I got an id on my John Doe from the shooting yesterday. "

"That's good, who is he?"

"You're not going to believe it – Jonny Quest."

"What?" his captain exclaimed, and the rattle of the phone handset indicated that he had picked up the phone.

"Yup, gave me his father's cell phone number to confirm it."

"Who else have you told?"

"You're the only one besides his family and the family's government contact – Intelligence One director name of Phil Corvin."

"Damn, feds, but can't be avoided here..." his captain sighed.

"Right, this director wants round the clock protection and says that I-1 will pay for it."

"That's some comfort at least," his captain harrumphed.

"That it is. Look, you call this Director Corvin and work it out with him," Jarod rattled off the phone number.

"Right. At least he sounds like he's a reasonable fed."

"Better than the mockery that's 'homeland security,'"

"Ain't that the truth. Now, who do you have in mind for guard duty?" Jarod could see his captain shifting in his chair, pulling up schedules and duty rosters.

Jarod explained the list he had quickly formulated.

"Good work as usual, Weiss," his captain complimented him. "All right, keep a lid on this until you hear from me. You make the calls for the guard detail, but no details about the case."

"I understand, Captain," Weiss acknowledged.

"Good, I'll be in touch and I want regular reports." Captain Tompkins said and hung up.

Jarod dialed the first of the six officers he knew he could trust to keep quiet.

***~RAJQ~***

In Maine, things moved quickly once the call came in that Jonny had been found alive. Wounded, but alive.

Benton made the call to Phil and got the details from him while Race went and prepped the Dragonfly for their departure. Bags were quickly packed with Bandit running in excited circles from person to person.

Jessie packed while her mother tried to object.

"Jessica Louise – what do you think you're doing?" Estella scolded her daughter who was hobbling back and forth on her crutches.

"I"m going too, Mom," Jessie huffed, shoving her hair out of the way. Crutches and long hair just didn't work together. She should have just braided it.

"Jessie..." Estella tried to reason with her.

"Mom, look, I'm the _only one_ besides Jonny who can really identify the goons who took him. I _have_ to go."

"And, do you think your father will agree to this?" Estella was just as stubborn as her daughter.

"I know he will," Jessie said, turning carefully on her crutches and moving back over to her dresser for shorts and capri pants that would fit easily over her cast.

"But, your physical therapy!" Estella tried next.

"Won't start until next week. We should be back by then and if not, I'm sure I can find a therapist in Kansas City, since we'll be around a hospital anyway." Jessie reasoned.

Estella groaned, thinking of the nightmare this was going to create for her ex-husband when it came to the insurance paperwork. "Jessie..."

"Mom, I know what you're thinking. Don't worry, it will all work out." Jessie assured her mother. She hobbled into the bathroom to grab her already packed toiletries kit. Living with the Quests had taught her to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, so she kept her toiletries kit with its travel size bottles ready and packed.

Her laptop was packed as soon as she figured she had enough clothes stuffed in her overnight suitcase for the trip. She had a backpack for the laptop and that she could deal with while on the crutches.

Estella stood still and watched her pack, looking like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Jessie ignored the warning signs and asked her mother, "Mom, aren't you going to go pack too?"

Estella dropped her head in defeat. Her daughter would work it all out, she was sure of that. "Yes, I guess I'd better. Your father will be ready to leave shortly and I had better see to it he has a bag packed too."

Jessie easily slipped the computer bag up on her shoulders, but stopped and stared in frustration as her overnight bag. There was just no way she could handle it while on the crutches. She looked back to her mother, "Mom?"

"Yes, yes. You go sit in the den and _don't_ move from there while I pack. I will bring down your bag. Don't worry, Jessie." Estella said sternly. She might not be able to stop her daughter, but she could at least try to rein her in and keep her from getting hurt any further for now.

"Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it," Jessie said, hobbling over to place a kiss on her mother's cheek and to do as she was told for now. This whole being on crutches thing – sucked in a big way. She couldn't wait until she started her physical therapy so she could get back to walking!

***~RAJQ~***

Benton didn't know how to react. He was in a state of shock – Jonny, being his ingenious son, had managed to pull off an escape. But then, of all things, had gotten caught in crossfire of a gang shoot out. That rattled him almost as much as learning about the plane crash.

Numb, he packed the overnight bag so recently emptied, putting in both casual clothes and more formal business attire, knowing that the business attire would come in handy when dealing with the media and government officials. He frowned at that. He didn't want to talk to the media. He just wanted to scoop his family up and retreat to the Palm Key compound where they could pretend the media didn't exist. The reasonable part of him knew that wouldn't work, that they couldn't stay there forever – Jessie, Hadji and Jonny would eventually need to go back to school, and there was his own work. He wouldn't, couldn't just hole up in either Maine or Florida. That wasn't how he wanted to live.

Bandit came trotting in, carrying his leash. He jumped up on the bed and dropped it beside the suitcase before looking up at Benton and barking twice at him.

"Yes, Bandit, you are coming too, of course," Benton put the clothes in hand in the suitcase, then scratched the dog behind the ears, earning a groan of delight from the small dog.

"Bandit? Bandit, where are you now?" he heard Hadji calling out in the hallway.

Straightening back up, he called out to his adopted son, "He's in here, Hadji."

"Ah!" He heard the quick footsteps and then, Hadji, dressed in jeans and a dark blue shirt, was at the doorway. "There you are, Bandit. It is good you are in here and not trying to help Jessie."

Benton's ears picked up the sounds of mother and daughter in the middle of a discussion that wasn't the quietest. He could guess what the two were disagreeing over – Jessie going to KC with them.

Hadji approached the bed and seeing Bandit's leash next to the suitcase said, "Are you ready to go, Bandit?"

The small white dog trotted over to Hadji and leaned into the ear scratching with a blissful moan.

"I am all packed – I came to see if you needed help, Doctor Quest," he offered.

"No, but thank you, Hadji," Benton said, clasping his older son on the shoulder. Amazed once more to see that the scrawny, almost underfed youngster was now a willowy young man almost taller than himself. "I just have a few more things to pack and I'll be ready."

Hadji accepted that with a nod after studying him for a moment. It appeared he was satisfied on that respect.

"You are worried about Jonny, yes. Because he is Jonny we all worry, but he will be all right," Hadji offered sagely.

Benton exhaled heavily, Hadji was right as usual. "You're right, Hadji. I know I'll feel a lot better when I see him for myself."

"Of course you will – we all will. I had better get the rest of Bandit's things gathered up," Hadji said, picking up the leash. "Come on, Bandit."

With a happy bark, the dog took a running leap off the bed and trotted to the door. He paused impatiently waiting for Hadji to catch up to him before bounding off in front of him again.

***~RAJQ~***

Andrea again played chauffeur to the family at Race's insistence. The drive back to the airport was crowded in more ways than one. Dr. Quest had deferred the front seat to Jessie with her cast and crutches, sitting in the back seat with Dr. Velasquez and Hadji. Jonny's dog Bandit perched happily on Hadji's lap, panting as he looked out the window.

She could see that Race's ex-wife was _not_ happy with her daughter's insistence on going. From what little she'd seen of Jessie Bannon, it must have been one hell of an argument to get her mother to back down.

Andrea was grateful she would be in the cockpit for the trip and not caught up in the mother-daughter debate. She had already been there, done that with her own mother. The drive from the rebuilt Quest Maine compound to the airport where the Dragonfly awaited them was not that long and Hadji, bless his soul, had provided the conversational topic that had filled the drive to the airport.

***~RAJQ~***

The Range Rover was driven up and parked in the rear of the aircraft under Race's watchful eye.

As they parked, he directed his daughter, "Jessie, honey, go find a seat and stay off that foot."

Jessie rolled her eyes at the order but didn't argue. She carefully got her crutches under her and turned back to Hadji, "Hey Hadj – could you grab my laptop?"

"Certainly," Hadji answered, easing his long and lanky out from the vehicle.

Andrea asked, "Race, what do you need me to help with?"

"Just go on up to the cockpit and get the engines warmed up. We're fueled up and have clearance from the tower to taxi as soon as the vehicles are secured."

"Right," Andrea answered with a nod and headed off to escape what she knew was going to be an uncomfortable moment between Race and his ex-wife.

"Hey Doc, you wanna take the wheels on that side while I take this side?" Race asked.

"Sure thing, Race," Benton answered, doing just that.

Estella stood to the side, arms crossed, waiting to have a word with him.

Race knew what was coming and so, hurried to chain the vehicles in place. The sooner he let Estella have her say, the sooner they could be on their way.

Benton finished the same time he did and said, "I'll go check on the kids – make sure Jessie has her foot propped up."

Leaving unsaid that he was leaving to allow them to have their heated discussion in peace.

Estella sighed loudly, the sound filling the rear cabin area, "Race."

"Let me guess, you're upset because I said she could go?" Race tried to defuse her temper.

"Why did you say yes?"

"Because I couldn't say no. Just in case they catch these guys, the police and the FBI will need her to make an id on them," Race answered truthfully. "Jessie has to id them – Jonny can't. He couldn't see them."

Estella shifted her weight from one foot to the other before saying, "But she's supposed to be resting..."

Race knew then that she wasn't upset with him as that she was with the situation. "Look Estella, you try leaving her behind on something like this and not only would you have a hell of a fight on your hands, but she'd still find a way to make it to Kansas City on her own."

"You've spoiled her, Race," Estella said with the first hints of a smile.

"Somewhat," he conceded. "But, in all honesty – she's a very intelligent person who knows _way _more about computers and hacking than she should."

They were interrupted by the sound of Jessie on her crutches. "Are you done yelling at Dad yet, Mom?"

"Jessica Louise..." Estella sputtered.

"Don't use the name thing on me, mom. I'm right and you know it."

Estella looked to Race with a raised eyebrow.

"I told you," Race said, referring back to his last comment.

"Come on – you can argue later. The sooner we get to KC, the happier Dr. Quest'll be." With that, she turned and hobbled back to the main cabin to presumably sit down once more.

"She is right, you know," Race said to his ex-wife.

Estella uncrossed her arm and nodded, "So she is."

Race motioned for her to take the lead and followed her from the rear cabin. Jessie was once more in her seat, engrossed in a conversation with Hadji about the merits of a new multiplayer on-line computer game and how it could be modified for Questworld.

Hadji had his laptop up between them, making notes as they talked.

Race chuckled and shook his head. His daughter did know too much about computers. He joined Andrea in the cockpit as she was doing her own pre-flight checklist.

"You're still in one piece, I'm amazed," she said by way of greeting.

"I think I owe my daughter for that," Race said, sliding into his seat and checking the instruments were all on-line and giving correct readings. "We ready?"

"Yep," Andrea answered, checking off the last item on the list.

"Let's go," Race said, putting his headphones on. "Rockport Tower, this is Dragonfly, requesting taxi and takeoff clearance, over."

"Dragonfly, you are cleared. Good luck. Rockport Tower out."

"Thanks Tower. Dragonfly out." Race released the radio toggle and switched to intercom, "Okay folks, we're taking off. Buckle up."

***~RAJQ~***

In the Hamptons, the man who referred to himself as Patriot swore at how easily his plans had come unraveled. Not only had the Quest heir escaped, but his men had lost him in the ensuing chaos. They had recovered the vehicle the boy had used, but the boy had been nowhere in sight and there had been some sort of police activity in the area precluding the team from searching for him too closely.

His orders had been easy enough when the chief had relayed that information. Clean up all traces of their presence and then scatter to the winds. He had planned for most everything and to have it unravel now, was infuriating. He would have to start over again, on a smaller scale this time, he decided. He still wasn't giving up on his goal, but he would have to work from inside Quest Corp before tipping his hand again.

_a/n: This will be the last chapter for a hopefully short while folks! I have to SG:Atlantis fics I need to write for the Secret Santa exchanges that I need to get cracking on, as well as finding a job or two to help pay bills while I work on finding more massage vic... er clients! ;) So, never fear - I haven't abandoned this story, I'm just hitting a massive writer's block right now when I need it the least! :-p -LN_


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